Alice Underground
by jjhatter
Summary: My version of Alice's first trip to Underland. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Hello, readers! Thanks for coming! I have to admit that this is not a very original fic idea on my part, but I'm still having fun with it! Also, for those who want to know, I'm taking a short break from _Paper Faces_…I'm practically slamming words onto paper at this point, and I need to take a breather. So, this, and another story I'll put up shortly, have come up for it. Don't worry…I'll get back to _Paper Faces_ soon enough!

Disclaimer: It has been thoroughly established by now that I do not own _Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland._ The original Alice stories, and any quotes from them, belong to Lewis Carroll. There are a few quotes from the original Disney cartoon, which, obviously, belong to Disney.

Rating: K+ (Just to be safe.)

Summary: The story of Alice's first adventure into Underland, as told by me; based on the Tim Burton film.

**Chapter I: Chasing Rabbits**

Eight-year old Alice Kingsleigh was bored. That was the bottom line. Bored, bored, bored. Her father, Charles, and her mother, Helen, were discussing business matters with Lord and Lady Ascot, and little Alice and her older sister, Margaret, were left in the garden. Margaret sat under a tree, while Alice sat on a branch above her, the family cat, Dinah, curled up in her lap.

Alice wore a blue dress and white apron with black fringe, and – at her mother's request, and with infinite reluctance – red-&-white striped stockings and black, pointed-toe slippers. She yawned and stroked her hand down Dinah's back, making the sleeping cat purr. Once or twice she'd peeked into her sister's schoolbook, hoping to find something interesting, but it had no pictures, no conversations…and, frankly, she couldn't understand half the things it said. She snorted aloud.

"Margaret?"

"Yes, Alice?" her sister responded without looking up.

"Don't you ever get bored with your studies? I mean, what is the use of a book, anyway, if it doesn't have any pictures or conversations in it?"

Margaret Kingsleigh sighed. She wished she'd taken her fiancée, Lowell's, advice and gone with him to tea at his home. She shut her book, her finger on the page so she would not lose her place, and turned to Alice with a dry expression.

"Alice," she said. "There are a great many good books in this world without pictures, you know, and why would conversation be needed in a history text?"

"Do kings not converse with their queens?"

Margaret blinked and turned away, unable to think of a good comeback. Alice's logic may have been infuriating, and maybe a bit nonsensical, but she and her family agreed on one point about her little sister: her logic was logic, no matter how frustrating. A logic she shared with her father.

Alice grinned triumphantly.

"If I had a world of my own," she said. "every book would have at least six picture on every page, and the words would be nothing but conversation."

"If _you_ had a world…? Pah! What nonsense!"

"Exactly," Alice smiled, closing her eyes as she gave Dinah's belly a soft scratch. The cat rolled in her lap, meowing pleasantly. "If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense! Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And, contrariwise, what it wouldn't be, it would! See?"

"Impossible," scoffed Margaret. "Simply impossible."

"Only if you believe it is," Alice quipped. "Father believes in six impossible things before breakfast. He tells them to me."

"Really?" murmered Margaret, returning to her book, although she neither expected nor desired an answer.

"Yes," Alice said. "Let's see…this morning, number one was that rabbits owned pocket watches, so that they wouldn't be late for their appointments. Number two was that flowers like to gossip with each other about the people they see. Number three was that caterpillars smoke water hookahs as a habit when no one is looking. Number four was that dormice own swords, and that they are made from hatpins, or else they wouldn't be able to lift them. Number five was that queens play croquet with flamingos for mallets, and then use hedgehogs for balls just for fun. And number six…"

"Alice, please!" snapped Margaret, and put a finger to her lips.

Alice sighed.

"Number six was that he had the most wonderful eight-year old daughter in the world…he said that wasn't as impossible as all the others," she whispered to herself. Her father was the only one to understand her; both of them had wild imaginations, both of them were considered a bit "eccentric" by the Ascots, and both of them liked to joke around and explore new ideas and new places. Whenever Alice was with her father, she felt safer and happier than any other time. But when she wasn't, she felt quite alone. It was if no one knew her better.

It was as if she was alone in the world.

Alice dragged herself out of her depressing thoughts, beginning to daydream. She was wondering as best she could – the hot summer sun made her very sleepy and a bit lazy – if making a daisy chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when she spotted something rush by not too far off in the distance.

She gaped.

It was a rabbit. A white rabbit, to be precise, with hot pink eyes, dressed in a sky blue waistcoat with silk lining and a yellow cravat. It hopped along, a red umbrella under one arm and its nose twitching nervously.

In one of its paws, it held a gold watch.

_A rabbit with a watch! That was number one!_

The rabbit gasped.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" it muttered in a highly strung voice, "I shall be late!"

The rabbit hurried on. In an instant, Alice jumped out of the tree. Dinah dropped, a complaining look on her face. Margaret saw nothing, and continued her studies.

Burning with curiosity over this marvel, Alice raced after the white rabbit. It dashed on, and swung into Lady Ascot's hedge maze, lined with red rose bushes, thorns clipped and branches neatly pruned. Each time Alice turned a corner, she feared she'd lose sight of the rabbit, but at the end of each corner, she was just in time to see it vanish behind the next.

"Oh, my ears and whiskers!" she heard the rabbit pant. "How late it's getting!"

As Alice turned the last corner, and left the Ascot Manor property, she saw the rabbit dead ahead. It checked its watch again, gulped, and popped into a rabbit hole at the base of a gnarled, twisted willow tree that, unkempt and wild as it was, couldn't possibly belong to Lady and Lord Ascot or their (annoyingly snooty) son, Hamish. Alice walked up to the rabbit hole and peered in.

Darkness, and nothing more.

"Most curious…"

Suddenly, the ground crumbled in her hands.

First she gasped.

Then, she yelped.

And then she screamed as loud as she could.

DOWN, Down, down…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II: Eat Me, Drink Me…**

DOWN, Down, down…

Would the fall never come to an end?

Alice looked down, but it was so dark in the rabbit hole she could see absolutely nothing past her own two feet. She tumbled head over heels, falling faster and faster, farther and farther. She was startled to see the tunnel was lined with various household objects: bookshelves, cupboards, a player piano, a stove, etc., etc. She landed on a bed, bounced off of its mattress and fell further into the darkness, the wind briefly knocked out of her.

Down and down and down and…down…and…down…and…

THUMP!

Alice landed flat on her back. She looked down…

To see a glass table below her.

Oh, no…

**THUMP!**

Alice hit the actual floor.

"Ow," she groaned, and, dizzy and breathless, stood to her feet. Her dress was dusty, her apron was spotted with bits of mud, and her hair was like a mess of golden threads. She tried to undo the tangles, running her fingers through her hair, and then tried to dust off her clothes, but only succeeded in smearing the mud on her apron.

"Well!" she exclaimed. "After a fall such as that, I shall think nothing of falling of downstairs! Why, I doubt I'd say anything if I fell of the top of the house!"

This was probably true.

Alice looked around. She was in a great, round hall of doors, each door made of wood and a different color. Green, orange, yellow, white, etc. The floor was a green and white checkerboard pattern of tiles, and an old chandelier lit the room with a soft, dim golden light. A glass table was in the center, with a circular top and three legs like a tripod.

Alice tried all the doors, but to her dismay they were locked. The little girl sighed miserably; how was she ever going to get out again?

Then she noticed a small gold key on the table that she had not seen before. The wise little Alice supposed it might open one of the doors, and picked it up and began to try it in the locks…but, alas! Either the locks were too big, or the key too small, but at any rate it would not fit in any of them. Alice sat down with a frustrated grunt.

That's when she saw the red velvet curtain. It hung very low – not much higher than up to her chest. She walked up to it and pulled it aside carefully, not sure what to expect.

There stood a tiny silver door, about fifteen inches high. Alice raised an eyebrow at this curiosity and tried the key in the lock. To her joy, it fit! She opened the door and put the key back on the table before getting down on her hands and knees before peering into a small passage, but she could see nothing in the dark.

Alice tried to shove herself through, but she could not even get her head through.

"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I knew how to begin…so many strange things have happened already…"

Alice turned back to the table…

A small bottle of what looked like wine, only pale green in color, sat upon it.

_That wasn't there earlier._

Alice looked around.

"Anyone there?"

No answer.

"If this is some sort of joke, I am not amused!"

Still no answer. Alice whet her lips and picked up the bottle. Tied to it was a label reading "DRINK ME", printed in bold black letters.

"No," she murmered, shaking her head slightly. "Better see if it is marked 'poison' or not."

Alice gave herself very good advice, but she very seldom followed it…which could explain the trouble she was often in. Still, she knew better than to drink from a bottle marked "poison," as it would eventually have dreadful results in the end. The bottle was not marked "poison," however, so Alice shrugged and drank it right down to the very last drop.

"Ugh! Alck!" she gagged and spluttered a second later. The drink was positively vile, worse than the medicine her mother made her take whenever she had a fever, and for a moment she wondered if it _had_ been poison. She slammed the bottle back on the table and coughed.

Then, a curious tingling came over her. She looked down…

And her eyes widened.

Her shoes seemed to stretch…her stockings crumpled down…her dress began to fold upon itself and connected with the floor…

Were her clothes getting _bigger?_

No! _She_ was getting _smaller!_

_ She was shutting up like a telescope!_

Soon, she found herself dressed in nothing but the blue undergarment Margaret had made her wear. She crawled out of her shoe, and then from the pile of clothes on the floor. She was a mere three inches high.

At first, Alice was a bit confused…but shrugged it off when she realized she could now fit easily through the little door.

But – alas for poor Alice! – when she got to the door, she found it had locked again, and she was without the little golden key!

Alice went back over to the table, and sure enough, she saw the key beside the empty bottle on the glass tabletop. With a determined glare, Alice tried to climb up, but the glass tablelegs were much too slippery and she kept sliding back down to the tile floor. Eventually, Alice tired herself out and sat down, shoulders slouched and tears in her eyes.

"Whatever am I to do now?" she sniffled.

Then she caught sight of a small box. It was open already, and inside it she saw a piece of cake, strawberry pink in color with orange flecks and thick white frosting.

Red iced letters on it read, "EAT ME."

Alice blinked and then shrugged.

"I'll eat it," she said, voice slightly desperate. "If it makes me larger, I can reach the key, and if it makes me smaller, I can climb through the keyhole, so who cares which happens?"

She plucked out a handful of cake and put in her mouth. It was much tastier than the potion, a sort of cherry and custard pie with a lemony tang and the slightest hint of mint.

_Which way? Which way?_

SHWOOP!

Suddenly, Alice found herself open up like the biggest telescope in the world! With a bang, her head hit the ceiling of the hall, nearly hitting the chandelier. Alice grunted and put a hand on her head. Her undergarment now bore many, many stretch run marks, and she was surprised it fit at all. It looked like a mini-skirt on her, and if she hadn't been alone she would have felt most scandalized.

"Curiouser and curiouser," she groaned, and grabbed the key.

She had scarcely placed it in the lock when she took it out and put back…and then began to cry again: what was the point? She was nine feet high! Her hand alone would never fit through the passage!

"You ought to be ashamed," she scolded herself. "A big girl like you to cry so much!" (An accurate analysis of the situation, no doubt.)

But she did not stop crying. She cried and cried for several minutes.

And by the time she did stop…by the time she realized the enormous pool of tears at her feet…by the time she realized she was shrinking rapidly…it was too late!

Alice gasped and flailed about, arms slapping at the waves of salt water. She screamed and ducked her head into the pool as she was swept toward an orange door…

And kept screaming as she was pulled under it…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: _The Mouse's Tale_ is a poem from the original _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ story. I do not own it. Lewis Carroll does. End of line. Any questions? No? Then may I present, my readers…

**Chapter III: Go Oft' Astray**

An empty marmalade jar floated past Alice Kingsleigh. She grabbed it and climbed in to save herself from drowning. She was glad it was empty. The jar floated at a titled angle, so Alice could see out of the opening like an open window. Salty water was everywhere.

"Oh, dear…I really shouldn't have cried so much…"

"HELP! HELP! I CAN'T SWIM!"

Alice looked in the direction of the cries out the jar. A large, plump brown mouse slapped its paws against the water helplessly, trying to swim away. Alice held out her hand.

"Here!" she called out to the frantic creature. "Grab hold!"

The mouse quickly did, and climbed into the marmalade jar with Alice. It was sopping wet, dressed in an olive colored dress with white lace fringe, which it attempted to wring out like a handkerchief or towel. Its thin, pink tail was so long it curled around her feet twice.

"Ugh!" she groaned. "I just had this washed…"

"I'm terribly sorry," said Alice, not sure what else to say, but the mouse HAD paused as if waiting for her to speak.

The mouse rolled its eyes and set to smoothing out its wet and wild fur.

"Dormyla."

"Beg pardon, Ms. Mouse?"

The mouse glared hotly.

"That's my name, dummy."

Alice glared, not liking Dormyla's attitude at all. But, out of habit more than anything else, she curtsied.

"Alice."

"Whatever."

Alice huffed and sat down petulantly. From a pocket of her dress, the mouse took up a small makeup kit. She sighed with relief upon seeing it was still dry. She turned away from Alice and took up a lipstick, and set to running it along her furry lips. The sight was so strange and absurd, little Alice couldn't help but giggle aloud. Dormyla whipped around.

"Be quiet, I need to concentrate!" she snapped.

Alice stuck out her tongue rudely. Dormyla sneered and turned away again.

"I _did _save your life, you know," said Alice.

"So what?" said Dormyla, without looking around.

"So, you could at least say 'thank you.'"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks. Now, where was I…?"

Alice sighed as Dormyla returned to her lipstick.

"I wish Dinah was here. I'd so like somebody to talk to."

Dormyla looked at Alice questioningly out of the corner of her eye.

"Who's Dinah?"

"Dinah's my cat," Alice replied with a shrug.

"C-CAT?" shrieked the mouse, jumping into the air and looking around, a look of sheer terror on her face.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" Alice apologized hastily. "I should have known you don't like cats…"

"_DON'T LIKE CATS?_ WOULD _YOU_ LIKE CATS IF YOU WERE ME?"

"No, I suppose not," Alice said, but then her mind – perhaps deciding things were getting a bit dull – began to wander, and she found herself talking without realizing what she was saying. "I still wish you could see Dinah. She's a dear thing…she likes to sit by the fire and curl up on the hearth, or in my lap, or sometimes in father's chair – he doesn't like that much. She's got such soft, warm fur…and she's very good at catching mice...Oh! Sorry!"

Dormyla's fur was fairly purple, and her whiskers twitched with shock and fury.

"W-we won't speak of her again," Alice whispered. "Not if you don't want to."

"'We' indeed! Hah!" Dormyla shuddered. "I've known enough cats in my time! Vulgar, creepy things…and much too tricky for my taste! Wouldn't they like ME in them! Ick!" She spat and then took a deep breath before turning back to Alice. "NEVER let me hear the word again, all right?"

"I won't!"

For a short time there was silence. Dormyla put away her lipstick and took out a powder puff. Alice, still eager talk, decided to try another topic of discussion.

"Are you…are you fond of…dogs?"

Dormyla did not answer, which, I'm sorry to say, Alice mistook as a sign of encouragement.

"Lady Ascot has a little terrier. When I can, I like to throw sticks for it to play fetch with. Hamish doesn't like it, but Lord Ascot says it's worth a hundred pounds! He says it's very good at killing all the rats that sometimes get into the garden…"

"ENOUGH!" squeaked Dormyla, putting away her makeup. Her long tail snapped like a bullwhip, and her face was flushed.

"I'm so sorry!" Alice said timidly. "We…I mean, _I_ will not talk about cats and dogs anymore. I promise!"

The mouse sighed melodramatically.

"When we get to shore," she said. "I shall tell you my family's history, and you will understand why I hate cats and dogs."

Almost as if on cue, the jar collided with something and tipped completely over. Alice let out a short shriek of surprise and tumbled out onto light brown sand.

All around Alice and Dormyla were a miniature menagerie of birds and animals: a dodo in glasses and a gray vest holding a cane, a lory in a large, fur-lined red hat, an horned owl with great yellow eyes and wearing a brown waistcoat with no sleeves, an eagle in a black derby hat and monocle, and a duck in a chimney sweep's outfit. There was also a pink fiddler crab, with a strange sort of scarf wrapped about her body, and her daughter, who was marble white and wore green mittens on her claws. All were wet, cross and upset.

"Awful stuff that salt water," grumbled the eagle.

"How are we to get dry?" asked Alice aloud. Every creature turned to look at her. Alice suddenly felt like a gnat under a magnifying glass.

"What is your name, child?" asked the dodo in a soft, scholarly voice.

"Alice, sir."

The dodo bowed. By now, all the other animals were chattering amongst each other. Alice couldn't understand what they were saying, but she did hear the young crab repeat her own question, "How are we to get dry?"

"Sit down, all of you!" Dormyla said suddenly. "_I'll_ soon make you dry!"

The birds clacked and squawked, while the crabs clapped their claws, and sat around the mouse in a semicircle, and Alice sat beside the lory, who gave her a strange look.

"Ahem!" Dormyla coughed importantly. "Everybody ready? Okay, then, this is the driest thing I know: 'Edward and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria…'"

The owl sneezed. The mouse swung round with a frown.

"I'm sorry," she said in an overly polite tone, "Did you say something?"

"Not I," said the owl with a shake of his horned head.

"I thought you did…anyway, I proceed: 'Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, and even Stigand, the archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable…"

"Found what?" interrupted the duck.

"Found _it_," the mouse replied in a peeved manner. "You know what 'it' means, don't you?"

"I know what 'it' means well enough, when I found something. Usually it's a frog or a bug," snapped back the duck. "But what did the archbishop and earls find?"

Instead of answering, Dormyla hurried on, "…found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William the Conquerer and offer him the crown.' Any drier?" Dormyla finsihed brightly.

"I'm as wet as ever," said Alice in a melancholy voice. The mouse sighed.

"Well, I tried."

The dodo cleared his throat.

"I move that the meeting adjourn for the adoption of more energetic remedies of our distressing situation."

"English, please!" cried the lory, rolling her eyes. "I don't understand half of those words, and I don't think you really do either, Uileam!"

The dodo – Uileam – huffed in an offended way.

" What I was going to say," he squawked, "was that the best thing to help us get dry would be a caucus-race."

Blank faces gazed upon the dodo.

"What's a caucus-race?" asked Alice.

Uileam smiled (or would have, if he had lips).

"The best way to learn is through action," he said simply.

The dodo drew an elliptical course around a large stone, and then all the birds, the crabs, the mouse, and Alice stood around it. Uileam was in front of Alice, and Alice in front of Dormyla.

"One…two…three…GO!" clacked the dodo, and away everyone ran, around and around, chittering and flapping and jumping about madly for at least ten full minutes. Uileam stopped without warning, Alice bumped into him, Dormyla into Alice, and so on and so forth.

"The race is over," said the dodo, unaffected, and everyone had to admit they were much drier.

And totally breathless.

It took around seven minutes for Alice to catch her breath – or, at least, be able to talk without gasping out each letter.

"Ms. Dormyla," Alice whispered, "You promised to tell me your history once we got to shore, and why it is you hate…er…C and D."

Dormyla sighed dramatically, clapping the back of her paw to her forehead, her tail whisking about in the sand. Alice suddenly became distracted by its absurd length; it was twice as long, in fact, as Dormyla was tall.

"Mine," sighed the mouse, "is a long and sad tale!"

"It's a long tail, to be sure," Alice said, never taking her eyes of the pink rope of flesh. "But why do you call it sad?"

Alice was so focused on the bizarre tail, that when the mouse began to speak, she imagined the words twisting about and around into a great bend. In the end, she envisioned the history of Dormyla's family like so:

"Fury said to a mouse

That he met in a house

'Let us both go to the law

I will prosecute you!'

Come, I'll take no denial:

But we must have a trial,

For, really, I've nothing to do!

YOU ARE NOT LISTENING!"

Alice realized these last words had not been spoken as part of the mouse's history, and nearly jumped at the severity in Dormyla's voice. Her mind still half-daydreamed, and she barely took notice of the words spilling off her tongue.

"I-I beg your pardon!" she said. "So sorry! You had got to the…seventh or eighth bend, I believe?"

"What? I had NOT!" the mouse fairly screamed

"A knot!" gasped Alice. "Here: I shall undo it…"

"You shall do no such thing!" snapped Dormyla, picking up her tail in her paws. "You insult me with your nonsense!"

"Oh, I didn't mean to! Please, do finish!" pleaded Alice, but the mouse only growled in response and left in a huff.

"What a pity she wouldn't stay," sighed Uileam.

"We never have heard the end of that story," put in the eagle.

"Ah, let this be a lesson, my child, to never lose your temper," the crab advised her daughter.

"Oh, be quiet, Ma! You could try the patience of an oyster," grumbled the younger crab.

"I _do_ wish Dinah were here," Alice sighed to herself. "She'd soon fetch her back."

"Who is Dinah, may I inquire?" questioned Uileam.

"Dinah's my cat. She's excellent at chasing mice. And you should see her after birds! Why, she'll eat a bird as soon as look at it!"

It was at this point Alice realized she was suddenly quite alone. The crabs had marched off, the flying birds had fluttered away, and the dodo had trotted quickly after them.

"I wish I hadn't even mentioned Dinah," Alice moaned. "No one seems to like her around here, and I'm sure she's the best cat in the world! Dinah, my dear! Oh, will I ever see you again?"

Lonely and low spirited, Alice once again began to cry. But she stopped, looking up quickly at the sound of footsteps plodding toward her, getting closer…closer…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV: Sibling Rivalry**

Two fat, bald headed little boys stood before Alice, staring at her curiously with unblinking eyes, one arm around each other's neck. The pair was identical in every way, including dress: they both wore dark brown trousers and black and white striped shirts with starched collars. Alice found only one difference between them: on one's collar was embroidered the word "Dee", and on the other "Dum."

Alice stood up and looked at them with an equally befuddled stare.

There was a very, very long moment of silence.

"If you think we're waxworks," said Dum, "You really ought to pay, you know. Waxworks weren't made to be looksed at for nothing, nohow!"

"Contrariwise," put in Dee, "If you think we're alive, you ought to speak to us. That's logic."

"I'm sure I'm very sorry," answered the perplexed Alice. "What are your names?"

"Oh! I'm Tweedledee. He's Tweedledum," replied Dee, patting his twin's shoulder.

"Contrariwise, I'm Tweedledum, and he's Tweedledee," said Dum in like.

A poem suddenly began running through Alice's head:

_Tweedledee and Tweedledum_

_Agreed to have a battle,_

_For Tweedledum said Tweedledee_

_Had spoiled his nice, new rattle._

_A monstrous bird came from above,_

_As black as a tar barrel…_

_And frightened both our heroes so,_

_They quite forgot their quarrel!_

"Aha!" laughed Tweedledee. "We knows what you're thinking about! It isn't so, nohow!"

"Contrariwise," added Tweedledum, "If it was so, then it might be, and if it were so, it would be. But, as it isn't so, it ain't! That's logic, too!"

Alice just nodded, dumbstruck.

"Who might you be?"

"Alice. Alice Kingsleigh."

The two boys looked at each other and grinned broadly. Alice smirked at how much they looked like a pair of troublesome schoolboys.

"First!" she giggled, pointing at Tweedledum.

"Nohow!" huffed he.

"Next!"

"Contrariwise!" huffed the other. "Besides which, you've begun all wrong, you have! The first thing in a visit is to say, 'How d'you do?' and shake hands!"

Here each brother held out a hand to Alice.

"How d'you do?" they chorused.

Alice hesitated; she didn't want to shake only one twin's hand, for fear of hurting the other's feelings. So, she gingerly took each of their hands in hers…and before she knew it, all three were twirling in a circle and singing _Ring Around the Rosy_ at the top of their voices.

_"Ashes, ashes…all fall down!"_ laughed the Tweedles, and fell over.

As Tweedledee hit the ground, a sickening crunch echoed through the woods.

Tweedledum stared at him with a bit of alarm.

"Are you all right?" asked Alice, fearing he may have broken something.

He had…sort of. Tweedledee reached into his back pocket and pulled out of it a blue rattle with a white stripe running along it. Its handle was almost snapped in half, and its ball was cracked.

He gulped, dropping the rattle and backing away.

Tweedledum gasped and grabbed Alice's arm, pointing a trembling, pudgy finger at the ruined rattle.

"Be you seeing _that?_" he hissed, eyes wide and face pale.

Alice was confused.

"It's only a rattle," she chuckled, thinking he was frightened.

"I knows it was!" cried Tweedledum, releasing Alice and stamping his foot. "It's completely spoilt now!"

He glared at Tweedledum, who had taken an umbrella from behind a tree (what it was doing there, Alice would never guess) and was trying to hide himself by opening it up and crouching beneath it in a fetal position.

"Oh, come, come!" soothed Alice, putting a hand on Tweedledum's shoulder. "No need to be so upset over an old rattle…"

"But it's _not _old, I tell you! No way, nohow!" Tweedledum nearly shrieked, brushing away Alice's hand and turning pink. "I bought it yesterday! IT'S MY NICE, _NEW_ _**RATTLE!**__"_

Alice covered her ears as the Tweedle screamed and began beating his fist upon a tree (which, to her surprise, actually made to shoo him away with one of its branches). She tried very hard not to begin laughing again; the Tweedles didn't seem much older or younger than her, and yet here one was going berserk over – of all things! – a rattle! She hadn't played with rattles for years!

Still, she kept herself from laughing as best she could…she felt doing otherwise would only upset Dum more.

Tweedledum exhaled slowly, glaring over at Tweedledee, who peeked cautiously out from behind the umbrella.

"Would you care to have a battle?" he half-growled, although in a much calmer voice than before.

"I s'pose," Tweedledee replied sulkily. "But SHE must help us to dress up."

Alice was about to protest when the brothers ran off, and mere seconds later returned with their arms full of all kinds of objects: a saucepan, a bolster, a silver platter, a baking sheet, four pillows, two blankets, a wooden sword, and a large ball of string.

"All these things musts go on, one ways or another," said Tweedledee.

Alice sighed.

"I'll do what I can," she said, and reluctantly set to work. First, she tied a pillow to the front and back of each twin, and put the blankets about their necks like capes. Then she placed the platter and baking sheet between the front pillows and the strings that held them for a chest plate. To finish it off, she put the bolster on Tweedledee's head and the saucepan on Tweedledum's for helmets.

"Be my bolster secure?" asked Tweedledee.

"Very."

"I justs fear my head may be cut off…it's one of the most serious things that might happen in battle, you know."

Here, Alice had to laugh, but quickly covered it up with a cough.

"Be I pale?" asked Tweedledum.

"Just a little…"

"I'm usually very brave. I've just got a headache."

"And _I've_ got a toothache!" snapped Dee. "I'm far worser off than you!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't fight today…" suggested Alice, but Tweedledum shook his head stubbornly.

"The fight must be today, but I doesn't care for it going long, nohow. We'll fight about something else tomorrow."

"…So, things like this happen often."

"Oh, about ten times a day."

"We'll duel until six," Tweedledee said, looking at the sky, "and then stop for dinner. If you care to watch, that's all right. But don't get too close: Dum hits everything in sight whens he gets excited!"

"And HE hits everything he can reach, whether he sees it or not!"

"And all over a rattle!" Alice half-heartedly scolded. Tweedledum shrugged.

"A rattle…a cloud's shape…tis all the sames to us. I really wouldn't have minded so much, though, if it hadn't been new," he said nonchalantly, and then turned to his brother. "This is the only sword you know," he said almost apologetically, holding up the wooden sword.

"That's okay," said Tweedledee carelessly. "I'll use the umbrella. The point's just as sharp, you know. Ready? On three now…one…"

"Two…"

"Three…"

The oncoming battle was interrupted by a hideous shriek, followed by an immense shadow that swept over the ground. Alice and the Tweedle Brothers looked up in horror.

An enormous bird with a face like a turkey's but with a sharper beak, and long feathers like a peacock's on its head swooped down. Its legs were red-skinned with deadly talons, and it's great wings had feather's like a vulture's. Its neck was striped with red and white feathers, and when it screeched, Alice saw it had a purple tongue.

"THE JUB-JUB BIRD!" screamed Tweedledee.

"RUN FORS YOUR LIVES!" yelled Tweedledum.

And they did. Alice ran off as well in the opposite direction, the claws of the terrible beast missing her by inches. She ran on, terrified that the Jub-Jub would follow. But it seemed disinterested now, and flew off with a third, awful cry. Sighing with relief, she sat down.

She realized only then that she had no clue where she was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V: Garden of Magic**

Alice Kingsleigh pushed away a patch of tall grass as she searched for a path of some sort. She didn't care where it lead…as long as it brought her somewhere she could get directions. Alas! No such path appeared.

She found herself in a great, untidy looking garden. Weeds were everywhere, and the hedge was untended. The flowers were as tall as trees, and there were all sorts of them: lovely yellow tiger lilies, pastel pink roses, purple-blue violets, chalk white daisies, and various colored tulips.

As Alice gazed around the unkempt flower garden, something large buzzed about her and then flew away, before stopping in place and hovering, eyeing her curiously. It appeared to be a miniature rocking horse, painted red with black polka dots…and with _wings!_

"A…horsefly?" she murmered as the strange insect buzzed away and out of sight. "No! No, more like a…a rocking-horsefly!"

"Precisely."

Alice whirled around in the direction of the voice.

"Who's there?"

No one replied.

But there was a very tall tiger lily near her in the general area of the voice…and, when she looked at it more closely, its petals seemed to form a face, with a small nose, a dot of a mouth, and little golden eyes…

"How ridiculous!" Alice snorted. "Tiger lilies can't talk!"

"Oh, yes we can!" the voice said. "If anyone's around worth talking to!"

"Or _about!_" a second voice chimed.

"_Or AROUND!"_ a third voice put in.

Alice nearly fell over in astonishment: there was no two ways about it…the voices came from the flowers!

"Oh!" was all she could say for a long time. "And…and can all flowers talk?"

"As well as you can!" said the Tiger Lily.

"And a great deal louder!" added a large, deep voiced violet.

"It isn't manners for us to begin, though, you know!" said a young red tulip. "I was wondering when you'd speak!"

"I said to myself," tittered an old pink rose. "'Her face has got some sense in it, even if it's not a very clever one!' Still, she's the right color. That accounts for something, I feel!"

"I care little for color," sniffed the Tiger Lily. "If her petals only curled up more, she'd be all right."

"Aren't you a bit frightened growing out here with no one to tend to you and keep you in order?" asked Alice, who was quite tired of being criticized; she got enough of it back home.

"Not really," said a daisy. "See that tree? Whenever danger's near, it barks! It goes 'bough-wough!'"

"That's why tree branches are called boughs!" said another daisy.

"Didn't you know that?" laughed two more, and then all four daisies began chattering and shouting in shrill, confused voices so like chalk on a blackboard that Alice had to cover her ears to keep from feeling ill from the sound.

"Silence! All of you! Silence, I say!" snapped the old pink rose, and began to wave about wildly. After a while it sighed and gave up.

"If I could get at them," she panted to Alice, "they'd stop soon enough."

Alice smiled.

"I'll fix that," she said, and then glared down at the daisies fiercely. "If you don't stop that screaming," she hissed, "I'll pick each one of you."

The daisies fell silent, their white petals turning a pale pinkish tone.

"Thank you! Much better!" sighed the old rose. "I'm Rose Mary."

"Ms. Rose Mary, how is it you and all the flowers can speak so well?"

"What? Don't the flowers speak to you where you come from?" gasped the Tiger Lily.

"No," Alice admitted. "Actually, they never speak a word to anyone."

"Place your hand upon the soil," suggested the red tulip. "That's the solution!"

Alice did.

"It's very hard soil," she said. "But what does that have to do with…?"

"If the bed a flower grows in is too soft, the flower will always sleep. Perhaps the flowers you know are just too lazy to talk!"

Alice laughed.

"That makes _some_ sense," she said, although she didn't think it so. "I can't believe I never thought of that!"

"It's my opinion that you never think at all," snorted the Tiger Lily.

"I never saw anyone look more foolish," the baritone violet put in with a sneer.

"Hold your tongue, both of you!" rapped Rose Mary. "As if either of you ever saw anybody! Hah!"

Alice ignored the Violet and the Tiger Lily and turned to Rose Mary again.

"Are there any other people in this garden besides me?"

"Well, there is ONE plant around here that moves like you. I wonder how you do it so easily…my roots have me tripping over my stem whenever I go too far…"

"You wonder about everything," muttered the Tiger Lily, but snapped its mouth shut when Rose Mary gave it such a vicious stare Alice felt as though the younger flower would wilt away there and then.

"Anyway," Rose Mary went on, "She's got the same shape, but she's bushier than you. And much paler – I think she may be wilting, poor dear – with longer petals."

"They're done up close about and around her stem, like a dahlia," added the Tulip. "Not like yours, all tumbled about."

"Used to have thorns, too," the Violet joined in. "She was pruned, though, and hasn't grown them back yet."

"Thorns?" Alice said perplexedly, raising a curious eyebrow.

"All around her head," said the Tiger Lily. "She's somewhere about now…not sure where, though…"

"Look! It's her!" the Daisies chorused. "Here she comes!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI: **_**En Passant**_

Alice Kingsleigh looked around in the direction the gossiping Daisies pointed. She stared at the figure before her in amazement.

The woman that sat a few feet away from her – noticing neither Alice nor the talkative garden flowers – was, easily, the most beautiful and stately lady Alice had ever beheld. Her skin was whiter than snow, her lips, eyelids, and nails painted black. Her hair was the lightest of blondes, and she wore long, white regal robes adorned with silvery lace and metal beads and silver slippers. Her eyes were like molten chocolate of the finest quality, and simply mesmerizing in appearance.

"That's Mirana," whispered the young red tulip. "The White Queen of Marmoreal and rightful ruler of Underland."

Alice was so in awe of the White Queen, she couldn't hear.

_Did that flower say, "Wonderland?" Why am I not surprised…_

"Is she really a queen?"

"_The_ queen," corrected Rose Mary. "Or…at least she WAS. When she was pruned, I fear she lost her throne."

Despite her beauty, Alice had to realize that the White Queen was in quite a state. In her dainty hands she held a white wool shawl, but not matter what she tried, she could not get it to fit right on her shoulders. She tried one way…no. Another…even worse! After seven or eight tries, the Queen groaned with frustration and slumped upon the stone she sat on, mumbling, "bread and butter" to herself in a calming tone, as if to sooth herself.

"Might I speak with her?" Alice asked Rose Mary (as if the old flower had anything to do with the business of a queen).

"If your roots will allow," laughed the rose in response. Alice smiled, curtsied in thanks, and left the flower bunch to join the Queen, who looked up, startled, as Alice approached.

"Hello, dear child," she said in a voice like honey.

Alice curtsied politely for the umpteenth time that day.

"Am I addressing Mirana, the White Queen of Marmoreal?" she asked timidly, remembering how people addressed Queens in fairy tales and hoping she recalled the tulip's words correctly.

The Queen chuckled wryly.

"Yes, if you call _that_ a-dressing," she said. "I certainly do not. I've been a-dressing myself for the last two hours! I thought some fresh air would help, but I really see no difference."

_I fail to see how it WOULD make a difference…and by the looks of that shawl, it would be better if someone else a-dressed her…_

"May I put your shawl straight for you, Your Majesty?" Alice offered good-naturedly.

The Queen smiled.

"Why, what a kind request! Yes, and thank you!" said the White Queen and handed the shawl to Alice. It was full of pins and had a brooch the shape of a white and yellow striped wasp, and Alice had to very careful not to prick herself as she went around to the Queen's back and put the shawl over Mirana's shoulders.

"What is your name, my dear girl?" asked the Queen.

"Alice Kingsleigh, Your Majesty."

The Queen turned slightly.

"Alice, you say?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

There was a short silence following this as Alice set to work switching the pins about on the shawl.

"It looks like a porcupine!"

"I don't know what's wrong with it," sighed the Queen with just a hint of melodrama. "Out of temper is my supposition. There's no pleasing it, no matter what I try!"

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, I don't think it will ever get on straight if you pin up all on one side like this!" Alice giggled as she continued fixing up the pins, and soon felt the shawl was set. "There! All that's left is the brooch. Could you get that, Your Majesty?"

"I could…but be warned, if I do, I shall prick my finger on the brooch stinger and yelp."

Alice laughed.

"How can you know?" she asked.

"Things about here work differently than in Overland."

"Overland?"

The Queen pointed up. As she began to try and fasten the brooch, she nearly dropped it. Catching it again, the knife-shaped "stinger" of the wasp caught her finger, and the Queen yelped. Then she turned to Alice with a grin.

"See?" she said triumphantly.

Alice went for a handkerchief…but her undergarment bore no pockets, let alone anything to put in them.

"Nevermind," said the Queen. "I have my own." She dove one of her long, thin fingered hands into a pocket of her robes and pulled out a vanilla colored handkerchief and dabbed at the cut with it.

"Not to seem rude," said Alice at length. "But haven't you a ladies maid?"

"Not with me," replied the White Queen. "I'd take you with pleasure though: two pence a week, squimberry jam every other day!"

"I don't want you to hire _me_!" giggled Alice. "Besides, I don't even know what a squimberry is!"

"It makes very good jam."

"Well, I don't want any today, thank you."

"You couldn't have any if you did," said the Queen with a shrug. "That's the rule: 'jam tomorrow, jam yesterday, but never jam today.'"

"It must come to 'jam today' eventually!"

"No, it cannot!" said the Queen sagely, lifting a finger to express her belief. "Jam every OTHER day. Today is not every other day, is it?"

Dreadfully confused by this point, Alice decided to change the subject.

"I'm so terribly glad that nasty Jub-Jub Bird thing has gone…" she mumbled.

"I wish _I _could be glad!" sighed the White Queen dismally. "I can never remember the rule, though. You must be very happy up there, being glad whenever you want."

Alice suddenly felt rather depressed.

"Actually…I'm a little lonely. No one really notices me up there. Everybody that does says I'm crazy. My father's really the only one who pays any attention to me…"

Two tears rolled down her cheek and she sniffled.

"Oh, don't cry!" tutted the Queen, pulling another, clean handkerchief out of another pocket with a pitying expression. "Consider what a good girl you are! Consider your adventures today…I'm sure you've had some! Consider the colors of the flowers! Anything! Just don't cry!"

Alice wiped her eyes with the handkerchief and smiled at the White Queen curiously.

"Do _you_ keep from crying by considering things?" she asked.

"Of course: one cannot cry and think properly at the same time."

On this, Alice had to agree. "That's true," she conceded with a small shrug.

"Now, how about we start off by considering your age, hm? Tell me, Alice: how old are you?"

"Eight, exactly, Your Majesty."

"I don't know what 'exactually' means, but I believe you without that."

"But, Your Majesty, I said…"

"Now, Alice…would you believe me if I told you I was one hundred and five?"

"That's impossible!" laughed Alice.

Then she stopped abruptly at the Queen's bemused expression.

"Is it?" asked the Queen softly.

This conversation sounded very familiar…

"I-I'm not sure," she answered after a long while.

Mirana smiled gently and lay a hand on Alice's shoulder.

"You've much to learn, Alice," she whispered. "And learn you shall. Thanks again."

The Queen tapped the girl's shoulder, turned, and began to walk away.

"Your Majesty, wait!"

"Yes, child?"

"Do you know how I might get home again?"

The White Queen stared at Alice long and hard.

"I won't say 'if I were you,' since clearly I am not," she said at last, "But I would advise to walk that way," here she pointed off down a path (which Alice must have failed to see before), "and ask for directions. _Fairfarren._"

Alice raised an eyebrow.

"What does that word mean?"

The Queen smiled broadly.

"It means, 'goodbye and good luck.'"

And the Queen vanished. No cloud of smoke…no flash of light or flame…she had simply disappeared from sight.

Alice stared for a long while at the place where Mirana had stood.

Then, with a determined step in her pace, she started off down the path.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII: "There Goes Bill!"**

Alice had been walking down the path that the White Queen had pointed out for quite some time. She finally got out of the strange garden and came to a large clearing. Close by she saw a brick two-story house with a wooden roof made of white planks. A path of polished stones lead from the neat, cherry wood gate to a blue door. The house was surrounded by a lawn of emerald green grass, with a small garden of vegetables beside it and two trees and a large shed in the back yard. On the door was a brass plate, engraved upon which were the words, "N. McTwisp."

The door swung open as Alice approached the gate, and, much to her surprise, out ran the White Rabbit – McTwisp – who had lead her (unintentionally or not) down into "Wonderland" in the first place. He looked about his lawn anxiously, hopping fretfully along his path, nose twitching.

"The Red Queen! The Red Queen!" he muttered in a panicked voice. "Oh, my precious paws! Oh, my fur and whiskers…she'll have me executed, as sure as ferrets are…er…ferrets! Ah, where DID I drop them, I wonder?"

Alice wasn't really sure what McTwisp had dropped, but very generously decided to help him by looking about the lawn (what she could see) for anything out of the ordinary, staying on the path to avoid ruining the neatly trimmed grass.

The rabbit looked up sharply with surprise as she approached him, and crossed his paws over his chest with exasperation.

"Mary Anne! Whatever are you doing out here?"

_Mary Anne?_

"But, Mr. Rabbit, I'm…"

"Oh, well, well, nevermind, my dear girl! Run inside this instant! Do me a favor and fetch me a pair of kid gloves and a paper fan…red, please. Quickly now!"

Confused, and just a little bit frightened, Alice ran into the house.

_Why, he took me for his housemaid! How surprised he'll be when he finds out who I really am…I suppose I'll be taking orders from DINAH next!_

The interior of the house was as white as the roof. (Except for the ceiling, which was painted a chestnut color.) A portrait of the rabbit was on a wall, directly beneath two other portraits – one a rabbit in a red coat and monocle and the other a rabbit in a yellow dress and bonnet. A bookshelf and a second shelf lined in trinkets and miniatures and photographs were in a corner, and down the hall Alice glimpsed a tidy little kitchen.

Alice sighed as she began to climb up a flight of stairs.

"I might as well bring him his fan and gloves...that is, if I can find them…" she grumbled.

Alice Kingsleigh ascended the stairs and came to a little bedroom. Beside the brass-framed bed was a nightstand, on which were – oh, happy day! – a pair of white gloves and a red paper fan.

Alice was about to pick them up and bring them down…when she saw another slice of pink and orange cake. Without thinking, she grabbed it and popped it into her mouth, thinking only as she did that every time she ate or drank anything here, something interesting was bound to happen, and hoping she would grow larger.

Which, unfortunately, she did.

Before Alice had finished chewing, her head banged against the ceiling! She choked down the entire slice whole, praying she'd stop growing there and then.

_I can't get out of the door as it is! Ooh, I wish I knew I shouldn't have eaten the whole thing!_

It was too late for prayers and reflections now, I fear: she kept right on growing, and had to set her elbow against the door and bend her head down to keep her neck and spine from snapping into thirds.

In the end, Alice had to put her foot up the chimney pipe, her left foot and knee against a wall near the spot where it met the ceiling, her other arm out the open window, and the rest of her body sprawled and scrunched up in the room, the whole house creaking around her. The situation was very uncomfortable, and the quick growth had so stretched her undergarment that it was now torn in a few places and bore many, many stretch marks and runs. Her neck ached, her head was bruised, and as the only way to get out seemed to be to stretch and thus destroy the rabbit's house (which, Alice realized quickly, would not work as the house was made of bricks and wood), it was no small wonder that Alice was distressed and unhappy.

"I miss home," she groaned. "There was no shrinking and stretching whenever I ate cake or drank wine, no bossy mice, birds, or rabbits, and no gossiping flowers…although I suppose the Chattaways make up for the latter. I'll write a novel of this place when I return…IF I return, that is…"

Alice's dismal thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the White Rabbit's voice calling up the stairs, "Mary Anne? Mary Anne! Are you quite all right? I must have my gloves and fan, immediately!"

Then came the thumpity-thump of the rabbit as he hopped up the stairs. The doorknob rattled, tickling Alice's elbow, as he tried to get in. However, as the door opened _inwards,_ and Alice's elbow could not easily be moved away from it, the attempt ultimately proved futile.

"Mary Anne, you silly girl! What is the meaning of this? Open up!"

More rattling, followed by a sigh and the rabbit muttering, "Very well…I'll go around and get in at the window…"

_That you won't, Mr. McTwisp._

The rabbit hopped down the stairs, out the open door, and up to the window. Alice heard a hideous shriek – the sound a terrified or anguished rabbit makes – followed by a crash and the sound of breaking glass, from which she concluded McTwisp had fallen into a cucumber frame, or something of the like.

"Pat! Pat, where are you? Get over here!" cried the rabbit.

"Coming, yer honor!" came a loud but female voice with a distinct nasal quality. "Sorry I took so long! Digging fer apples, yer honor!"

"Digging for apples, my pocket watch!" snapped McTwisp. "Here! Help me out of this!"

Sounds of flapping wings and tinkling shards of glass.

"Now…tell me, Patricial…what is _that? There,_ in the window," panted the rabbit.

A honking, quacking, squawking noise…a goose call.

"Why, Saints alive! Sure, it's an arrum, yer honor!"

"An arm, you goose? Pah! Whoever saw one that size? It fills the whole window, for heaven's sake!"

"Sure, and it do, yer honor. But it's an arrum, I tell ye. I know one when I see one."

"Well, it's got no business there at any rate…go and take it away."

"What? ME?"

"Yes, you, Pat."

"B-b-but…but, what if whatever be attached to that there arrum…eats geese?"

"What if it doesn't?"

"Sure…sure, but I don't like it, yer honor. Not at all…"

"Do as I say, Pat!"

A pause, then a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. Run to the back shed and find Bill."

A longer silence.

"Here be Bill, yer honor!"

"_Fairnee,_ Nivens! And what is it…I say, what are you pointing at man…er…rabbit?" a high-class American voice with a noticeable rasp hissed. "What…? Oh, madness! Oh-ho-ho! Ye-Gods!"

"_That's_ what."

"Hmm…well, well…it's been a long time since I've dealt with something like this…"

Something that felt like scales brushed Alice's arm and she instinctively flexed her hand into a fist and made a snatch in the air.

"YAH!" cried the American voice, followed by the sound of another smashed cucumber frame.

"Oh, joy!" cackled the voice with genuine glee. "This one puts up a fight! Quick, my dear Pat! A ladder!"

"A ladder, Bill! Right up and away!"

A scraping sound, like sharp steel against a wet stone.

_Oh, dear…_

"Wh-what do you need a ladder for, Bill?" asked McTwisp.

"Well, Nivens…we clearly can't _drag_ the thing out, can we? And, unless you plan on turning your precious little clocks into tickity-tockity charcoal – which will upset Time greatly –smoking is not an option. Have you any pishsalver?"

"A little…here."

"Thank you. Now, what I'm going to do is try and climb down the chimney – I assume you've tried the door? – and see if I can get in and pour this down whatever's in there's throat and shrink it down. And if it tries anything…"

Steel whistled through the air.

"I don't think you'll need that, then," said the rabbit. "The last one up was Mary Anne, so it's got to be her."

"…Mary Anne?"

"…Yes."

"Nivens…has Mary Anne ever made a mistake of this PROPORTION, so to speak, before?"

"No…what are you getting at, Bill?"

"Let me put it this way, McTwisp: have you considered recently that you may require spectacles?"

A tense pause.

"Billnor Creole, has anyone ever told you that you are the most infuriating reptile to walk the Earth?"

"Not in so many words, no."

"'Ere's yer ladder, Bill!"

"Thank you, Pat. Well, wish me luck!"

A few seconds later, a scrabbling sound was heard inside the chimney pipe, coming closer and closer…

Something sharp jabbed at her toe. Alice yelped and kicked (as best as she could, cramped as she was), and then Alice heard a hiss and a scream. Outside the window, Pat's and McTwisp's voices chorused, "There goes Bill!"

"Quick!" McTwisp said. "Catch him at the hedge! I'll get some brandy from the kitchen."

The rabbit's hopping was heard downstairs.

"Here, Bill," his voice came outside a bit later. "Have a drink…easy, old man!"

"What 'appened, Bill? Tell us all about it!"

Then came Bill's voice, panting and confused, but by no means frightened.

"Well, I-I don't rightly know! Thanks…I'm fine now…but I'm highly flustered! Flabbergasted, even! I felt something soft and large blocking my way, so I poked at it with my saber, and…SHOOF! Up, up, and away!"

Alice noticed that Bill – whoever and/or whatever he was – had dropped a small vial on the floor, and it had slid towards her hand where her elbow met the door. She grabbed and bent down, uncorking it with her teeth, and quickly drank it down.

A familiar, revolting taste filled her mouth. She gagged.

SWOLMP!

She was three inches tall. Eager to get out, she ran under the door and scurried down the stairs. She peeped outside around the door frame.

The White Rabbit, a goose in a gardener's uniform, and a gecko in a brown overcoat covered in soot, wearing a monocle and holding what looked like a letter opener, fashioned into a sort of miniature saber, in his claws, were all crouched by a bush, whispering to each other. The goose – Pat – looked back at the window. Her eyes widened.

"Bill! Yer honor! Look! The arrum…vanished, it has!"

"What?" gasped the gecko and the rabbit, and all three ran to the window to investigate.

Seeing this as the perfect time to escape, Alice ran out the door and scampered down the path and through the open gate into a wood.

She realized only then she had failed to ask for directions.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII: Cheshire Smile**

The wood was strange and shadowy, and Alice didn't like being in it at all. The trees were dark, their bark was burned, and their mostly bare branches reached toward the sky like grasping claws. What few leaves were on the trees were dry and yellowed, shaped like shovels with curved points like hooks. And, at three inches tall, every tree seemed the size of a mountain to Alice Kingsleigh. As she went on, the path became more and more covered with leaves, and she had to be careful not to lose it. She walked quickly, but cautiously, certain that there were all kinds of dangers in the mysterious wood. She feared that, at any moment, a bear or a falcon – or, heaven forbid, the vile Jub-Jub Bird – would snatch her up and whisk her away for lunch.

Her walk was interrupted by a log in the middle of the path. Alice tried to move it, but the log was not hollow and would not budge at her size. She tried to climb over, but there was nothing to grab hold of to help her in the attempt. She knew she could not jump over, and if she strayed off the path, who knows what would happen?

_So_, thought Alice,_ what am I to do now…?_

"Well, well! Hello down there!"

Alice looked back towards the source of the voice, but saw nothing at first.

"Up here!"

Alice looked up into the nearest tree…

And gasped.

Sitting on the bough of the tree was a simply enormous cat, with dark gray fur, almost like lead, decorated with electric blue stripes rimmed in black. The digits of its paws were tipped in long, black claws. Its long tail swished idly about beneath it, hanging in the air and swinging like a pendulum. Its large, turquoise eyes seemed to glow in the dark as it fixed her with a most unnerving stare.

But the most disturbing and astonishing feature of the feline was the fact that its mouth was curved upwards in a wide, toothy grin, the exact shape of a crescent moon, that stretched almost literally from ear to ear.

Upon seeing its teeth, Alice instantly decided that this was an animal to show some sort of respect.

The cat smirked, as if Alice's more-than-obvious discomfort in his presence amused him.

"I _did_ say 'hello,'" he purred smoothly.

"Oh…oh, y-yes…um…hello," stammered Alice.

_Well, he SEEMS good-natured…still, better to be careful than to be breakfast…_

The cat laughed and dropped from the tree. He padded over to Alice and lay in front of her, head in his paws, raising an eyebrow when she instinctively took a step back.

"I've seen many little girls," he said. "But THIS is ridiculous."

Alice smiled sheepishly. The striped cat chuckled.

"What do you call yourself, little one?" he growled, checking his claws.

"A-Alice."

The cat looked at her sharply.

"_THE_ Alice? The one every bird and rodent in Tulgey Woods is talking about?"

"Assuming there are no other Alices, then yes, I suppose…"

The cat's grin widened. Alice couldn't help but noticed he had not stopped smiling the entire encounter thus far. Perhaps the shape of his mouth was permanent?

"I hear you like cats," he hissed.

"When…when I'm the proper size, I-I do…"

The cat's expression softened.

"I'm Chessur the Cheshire Cat," he purred. "You can call me Chess, if you want. Delighted to meet you, Ms. Alice."

The cat bowed his head solemnly. Alice giggled at the reverent gesture.

"Cheshire-Puss," she began, timidly, not sure if the grinning feline would like the name. However, he only grinned a bit wider and let out an encouraging purr.

_Come, he's pleased so far..., _Alice thought.

"W-will you please tell me…which way I ought to go from here?"

The Cheshire Cat seemed to ponder the question for a time.

"Well," he said at length. "That really depends a great deal on where you want to get to, now doesn't it?"

"Oh, I don't much care where…"

"Then it doesn't matter!"

"…As long as I get _somewhere!_"

"Oh, you're sure to do that," hissed the cat, rolling his eyes in a bored manner. "If you only walk long enough."

Alice hated being so interrupted and contradicted, but decided against an argument as she felt that what Chess had said could not easily be denied. She decided, instead, to try a different question:

"Who lives around here?"

The cat had been licking at the back of a paw, and stopped abruptly when Alice spoke. She did not like the look in his eyes when he turned to her at all, and felt her throat contract in a nervous gulp.

"In _that_ direction," said Chessur, waving a paw in the direction Alice had been walking. "Lives a March Hare and a Dormouse. Around now, I'd say they're having tea with the royal hatter. You can visit them, if you like…they're all perfectly mad."

"Mad?" gasped Alice.

"Quite," purred Chess, bemusedly.

"B-But I don't want to go among _mad_ people!"

To Alice's surprise, the Cheshire Cat began to laugh hysterically.

"You can't help that!" he said after calming down a bit, still stifling a snicker. "We're ALL mad here! _I_ am mad…_you_ are mad…"

"How do you know I'm mad?" Alice indignantly inquired.

"You must be," Chessur said with a shrug. "Or else you wouldn't be here."

Alice didn't understand how that proved anything regarding lunacy, and at a loss for words asked, "How do you know that you're mad?"

"Well," replied the cat, mulling the question in his head. "For starters, a dog isn't mad. You grant that?"

"I…I suppose…"

"Yes, well, you see, a dog – like most animals – wags its tail very fast when it's pleased, and growls very loudly when it's angry. I – unlike most animals – wag my tail rapidly when I am angry, and growl loudly when I am pleased. Therefore, I am mad. See?"

"…No. And…I've always called it purring, not growling."

"Whatever," Chessur responded nonchalantly. "Shall I bring you to the party or not?"

Alice was quiet for a time, trying to decide.

"I suppose I might as well attend," she said at last.

The cat grinned broadly and jumped onto the long, holding out a paw to the tiny Alice.

"Grab hold," he growled silkily.

Alice hesitated, and the Cheshire Cat, noticing her nervousness, smiled gently.

"I won't hurt you, love," he meowed. "You need not tremble like a mouse in a trap, although you aren't much bigger than one. Take hold."

Alice sighed and took hold of Chessur's paw as he pulled her up and over the log. He hadn't hurt her yet, so what was there to say he would?

Besides, walking through the woods with a mysterious, smiling cat still felt much safer than walking alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX: Because Poe Wrote On Both**

Chessur brought Alice to the end of the wood safely and soundly. At the bottom of a hill at the edge of the wood, Alice saw an old windmill. Its sails were ragged and bent, its door battered, its windows cracked, and it was all too clear it had not been used in a long time. The roof was thatched with what looked like brown hair or fur.

There was a large table set out in front of the windmill, and the Mad Hatter and the March Hare were having tea at it. The Hare wore a black overcoat and trousers, stained and even burned in some places. He fidgeted restlessly in his chair, his ears twitching and his wide pink eyes constantly glancing about, as if he couldn't keep still.

The Hatter wore a dark brown milliner's coat, the color of black coffee, and matching trousers that were a few inches too short for his legs. About his throat was a black bow tie with a design of pink and yellow flowers. Underneath his coat he wore a pine needle green vest and white shirt. His hands were calloused, his fingers scratched and worn and bearing many bandages. He wore a thimble on the tip of one finger, a pin cushion-ring on another. Scissors, bobbins and spools stuck out of his coat lining, and ribbons and bits of yarn spilled from his pockets. His black felt top hat was scorched, with a long pink hatband, in which a price tag was still stuck, as well as several needles and hatpins and a quill pen. His stringy hair was carrot orange, and his skin was abnormally pale, save his lips, were a rich rose color, giving him the appearance of a circus clown. His eyes were neon green, and one was lazy, slightly out of place, almost as if it had been taken out and shoved back in again carelessly.

The Dormouse did not take tea with the Hare and the Hatter. Alice spotted her inside a teacup, sleeping quietly and even snoring a little (it sounded like a music box tune). She wore a pink blouse and skirt, maroon breeches, and a cream-colored apron. About her slender waist was clasped a plain leather scabbard and belt, in which was stuck was a miniature sword, fashioned out of a hatpin and given a hilt.

_Better be careful around these characters…_

"This is as far as I dare to go," meowed the Cheshire Cat. Alice was taken aback by the sudden sorrow evident in his soft and silky voice.

"Why?" she asked, quietly.

The cat did not answer her question, but instead said to her, "Whatever you do, DO NOT try the milk. Goodbye, little Alice."

And, much to Alice's surprise, the cat began to disappear, slowly vanishing in a cloud of dark blue mist. His blue and black stripes went first…then the remainder of his tail and paws…then his middle…then his eyes, ears, nose, and the like…and finally his wide, devilish grin, which remained for several seconds before swirling out into nothingness.

"Well!" Alice couldn't help but exclaim. "I've often seen a cat without a grin…but a grin without a cat…?"

Alice shook her head to rid her mind from the curious nature of this "Wonderland," and started down toward the tea table. It was rather long and wide, but all three had gathered at one end. The tiny girl was soon spotted by the Mad Hatter and the March Hare, who didn't seem at all surprised by her size.

"No room!" chirped the Hatter in a flute-like voice.

"Nae rum!" barked the Hare in a thick Scottish-sounding brogue.

"There's plenty of room!" said Alice, confused, and jumped up onto a chair before climbing onto the table and settling down in a spot between the Hare and the Hatter, directly across from the Dormouse.

"Have sum wyne!" grinned the Hare, his large crooked teeth sticking out from his lips.

Alice looked all around the table. Several of the teacups and pots did not match, and a few were broken and/or dirty. The white tablecloth had several smudges and a couple of burn marks on it. There was a loaf of white bread, a loaf of brown bread, a nearly-finished plum-cake, a platter of scones, and several unfinished butter sticks on trays.

"I don't see any wine," Alice remarked.

"Thar ain't any!" said the Hare cheerfully.

"Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it," an exasperated Alice sighed.

"Och! Well, it warn't very civil of _ye_ to set doon without bein' invited!" argued the Hare, waving a spoon about as he spoke.

"I'm sorry," Alice apologized, reminding herself she was among mad people. "But this table _is_ laid out for a good many more than three people."

"Your hair wants cutting," observed the Mad Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for a long time, and this was his first speech. Alice rolled her eyes.

"You should learn not to make personal remarks," she said with some severity, mimicking Lady Ascot whenever she was talking to her mother. "It's very rude."

She stopped talking when, to her shock and slight horror, the Hatter's eyes changed color from green to pale orange, and he sat erect in his chair. Then, just as suddenly as he had tensed, the Hatter relaxed, and his eyes returned to their usual state. He smiled widely, and Alice couldn't help but notice the large gap between his front teeth.

"Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" he asked softly.

_Come, _thought Alice. _Now we'll have some fun! I'm so glad they've begun asking riddles…_

"I believe I can answer that!"

"Do ye mean ye kin ye'll fynd oot th' answer to it?' asked the March Hare before staring distractedly at the remains of a shattered teapot and muttering under his breath, "Pot..."

"Exactly," answered Alice.

"Then ye should say whatcha mean!" said the Hare, tossing the pot over his shoulder.

"I do! Well, at least…at least, I mean what I say. That's the same thing -"

"Oh no! Not the same thing a bit!" insisted the Mad Hatter, stirring some cream he had just put in his cup. "Why, you might just as well say that, 'I see what I eat,' is the same thing as, 'I eat what I see.'"

"Ye myght, just as well say," added the March Hare, nodding vigorously in agreement, "that 'I lyke wat I git' is th' same thing as 'I git wat I lyke!'"

"You might just as well say," mumbled the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in her sleep, "that 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same thing as, 'I sleep when I breathe…'"

"It IS the same thing with you!" laughed the Mad Hatter, and poked the Dormouse gently with one finger. "Come on, Mally! Wake up!"

The Dormouse's eyes snapped open. She squeaked and jumped onto the table, waving her miniature weapon about wildly.

"What is it? What did I miss? Who poked me?" she growled rapidly. Then she saw Alice, and slowly sheathed her pin-sword, raising a single eyebrow.

"And who's she?"

"Well, I don't rightly know!" gasped the Hatter. "What is your name, my dear?"

"Alice Kingsleigh."

Like the Tweedle brothers before them, the Hare and the Hatter grinned at each other. The dormouse smirked skeptically and put her paws on her hips.

"Alice, eh?" she scoffed. "How did you get here?"

"Cheshire-Puss brought me."

"CHESHIRE-PUSS?" the Dormouse and the March Hare howled, doubling over with laughter at Alice's nickname for the Cheshire Cat. They both stopped abruptly as the Hatter inclined his head menacingly, eyes orange once again.

"Ye don' mean ol' Chessur, do ye?" he growled, voice now matching the Hare's.

"He…he said that was his name," Alice replied, ignoring the throat slicing gestures the Hare and the Dormouse shot her. The Mad Hatter clenched his fists and ground his teeth.

"He's…nut a very trustworthy cat, lass," hissed the Hatter. "I'd stay away frum him if I wus ye."

"H-he seemed friendly to me..."

_"FRIENDLY, AYE!"_ roared the Hatter, slamming his fists on the table, his eyes now an awful scarlet shade. "An' hoo many small lassies do ye kin he's bamboozled before yerself wyth his 'friendliness,' the filthy, _slurking, slurvish…_!"

"Hatter!" snapped the Dormouse, stamping her foot.

The Hatter jerked, gulped, and his eyes reverted back to neon green. He turned toward the rodent with a weak smile.

"Thank you," he wheezed, as if all the air had been ripped from his lungs. "I needed that. I'm fine now."

Here all conversation dropped, Alice being stunned by the occurrence and trying – as best she could in her frazzled mindset – to remember what she could about ravens and writing desks, which wasn't much to begin with. The March Hare looked at his reflection in a knife blade, while the Dormouse sat back down in her teacup, scowling. The Hatter took a pocket watch from his coat and held it to his bloodless ear.

"What day of the month is it?" he asked, shaking the watch and poking at the glass.

"The fourth," Alice answered him.

"Two days wrong!" sighed the Hatter mournfully, handing the watch to the Hare. "I _told _you butter wouldn't suit the works."

"It wus th' best booter…" said the Hare timidly.

"Yes, I know…" murmered the Hatter, as if pondering this information, and then snapped his fingers angrily. "Oh! Some crumbs must have gotten in as well…how careless of us to use the bread knife!"

The March Hare eyed the watch gloomily, propping his head in a paw, ears dipped slightly. He dunked the watch into his tea cup, sighed, and flung it in Alice's direction.

"Booter," he mumbled drearily.

"What a curious watch!" Alice remarked, pushing it towards the Mad Hatter, who picked it back up and replaced it in his pocket. "It tells the day of the month, rather than the o'clock!"

"Why shouldn't it?" asked the Hatter, eyes lemony yellow. "Does _your_ watch tell you what year it is?"

"Well…no, but that is because it stays on the same year for such a long time."

"Which is exactly the case with mine! My, what a lot we have in common!"

"Gae!" cried the March Hare, jumping up in his chair. "The dormoose is a-sleepin' agen!"

The Hare threw a scone at the Dormouse's teacup, knocking it down and causing her to tumble out. She glared at the Hare as she righted her sleeping spot.

"I wasn't sleeping," she grumbled. "Just resting my eyes, that's all…"

The Hare giggled madly, putting a teapot on top of his head and trying to balance it there.

"Thackery!" scolded the Hatter. "Not at the table, please!"

The Hare shrugged and nodded, knocking the teapot off of his head before grabbing another one and pouring himself another cup.

"Have you guessed the riddle yet?" inquired the Hatter, pouring Alice a cup and handing it to her.

"No, I give up," Alice sighed in defeat. "What's the answer?"

"I haven't the slightest idea!" shrugged the Hatter.

"Naer I," said the March Hare brightly, picking up a piece of plum cake and placing his ear to it, as if listening through a seashell.

Alice groaned.

"I think you might find something better to do with the time," she said. "Than waste it asking riddles with no answers."

"If you knew Time as well as I do," said the Hatter. "You wouldn't talk of wasting it: it's HIM."

Alice stared blankly.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Of course you don't!" said the Mad Hatter with a crazed giggle. "I daresay you've never even spoken to Time!"

"Perhaps not," Alice conceded, speaking uncertainly. "But I do know that I have to beat time to get my lessons done."

The March Hare gasped, as if shocked.

"Ah," said the Hatter, lifting a finger wisely. "That accounts for it. He won't _stand_ beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do almost anything you'd like with the clock! For example," he went on, twisting his fingers in the air like brushes on canvas as he spoke. "Say it was…oh…8:00 in the morning, just about time for your lessons. You would only have to whisper a hint to Time…and around goes the clock in a twinkling: half-past-one. Time for dinner!"

"I oonly wheesh it wus," grumbled the March Hare, looking at his own watch and tapping the glass with a fork handle.

"That would be grand, certainly," Alice agreed with a smile. "But, then, I wouldn't be hungry!"

"Well…not at first, no. But you could keep it half-past-one for as long as you liked."

A bright little idea popped up in Alice's head.

"Is that how YOU manage?"  
"Not I!" sighed the Hatter dismally, eyes flecked with blue. "Time and I quarreled, and now he doesn't do a thing I ask! It's always 6:00 now!"

Alice's eyes widened.

"And that's why so many tea things are set out here!"

"Yes, that's it precisely. It's ALWAYS tea time, and we have no time to wash the things between the whiles."

"So, do you keep moving about then?"

"Exactly so," nodded the Mad Hatter. " Just as the things get used up."

Alice looked into her cup.

"What do you do…when you reach the beginning again?"

The Hatter put a finger to his chin in thought.

Alice suddenly felt quite ill.

"Could weh change th' soobject?" yawned the March Hare, leaning back in his chair and putting his large feet on the table. "I'm bored. I say th' young'un tell us a story!"

Alice was quite surprised by this request.

"I…I can't think of any at present…"

"Then the dormouse shall!" the Hare and the Hatter cried out together. The March Hare jumped onto the table and grabbed the teacup in which the dormouse slept and began shaking it in his paws.

"Gae! Wake up, dormoose!"

The dormouse hopped out of her cup and onto the table in a huff.

"I wasn't asleep," she insisted. "I heard everything you and Tarrant were saying."

"Tell us a story!"urged the Hare with a childish smile.

"Yes! And be quick about it, or you'll be asleep again before you've finished!" added the Mad Hatter gently.

The Dormouse blinked with surprise, looking just as perplexed as Alice had been, sat down and began thus: "Once there were four sisters, and they lived at the bottom of a well…"

"What did they live on?" asked Alice.

"Treacle," said the Dormouse without looking around.

"They couldn't have done that!" Alice giggled. "They would have been sick."

This statement seemed to strike a chord of some kind, for the Dormouse bowed her head slightly and muttered, "Yeah. I guess they were," in a sad kind of voice. Alice decided it best not to press the matter.

"Take sum mer tea!" urged the March Hare, holding out a teapot to Alice.

"But I haven't had any yet! I can't very easily take more!"

"Aha! You mean you can't very easily take _less!_ It is very easy to take more than nothing!" said the Mad Hatter.

"No one asked _your_ opinion."

"Aha again! Who's making personal remarks now, hm?"

"Ahem!" coughed the Dormouse. "May I? Thank you; now, these four sisters lived at the bottom of a well, a treacle well, to be more precise…"

"There's no such…!" Alice began, but stopped short, partly out of recollection of her encounter with the White Queen and her father's words, and partly out of the fact that the Hare and the Hatter had put their fingers to their lips and were shushing her loudly. The Dormouse snarled softly and her paws brushed at the hilt of her pin-sword.

"If you can't be civil…" she started to say.

"Oh, forgive her, Mally!" said the Hatter beseechingly. "Please, continue."

"Yes, go on," Alice put in humbly. "I won't interrupt again. I daresay, there may be at least ONE…"

"One, indeed!" huffed the Dormouse, but consented to go on: "Anyway, these four sisters, they were learning to draw -"

"Pardon me, Mally," interjected the Hatter. "But I would like a clean cup. Shall we move down one space?"

"Aye!" agreed the March Hare.

The Dormouse sighed.

"Oh, all right," she grumbled.

All three moved one space down the table, and Alice followed. Alice was now in a worse spot than before: she had forgotten to drink her tea, and the March Hare had upset the milk jug into his plate of bread and butter, and she found the smell awful.

_Soured…no wonder that cat told me not to drink it…_

"What did the four sisters draw?" asked Alice, trying to ignore the stench.

"Er…um…" the Dormouse stuttered thoughtfully, and then finally said in a flat, defeated tone, "Treacle."

"But…where did they draw the treacle from?"

"You can draw water out of a water well," reasoned the Mad Hatter. "I guess you could draw treacle out of a treacle well, couldn't you?"

"But they were IN the well," Alice pointed out.

"Indeed. Well in," the Dormouse said, and before she could be interrupted again continued (a bit more slowly now, for she was getting sleepy), "They were learning to draw everything that begins with the letter M…"

"Why M?" asked Alice.

"Wy nut?" remarked the March Hare.

Alice subsided. The Dormouse yawned and then went on, "Everything with an M: mouse-traps, the moon, monsters, memory, muchness…"

Here the rodent giggled madly.

"Did you ever see such a thing," she said, more to herself than anyone else, "As a drawing of muchness?"

"Now that you mention it," Alice said, unsure of what exactly "muchness" was, "I don't think -"

"Then you shouldn't talk," broke in the Hatter teasingly.

This remark so insulted Alice that she felt she could stand the company of the insane and inane trio any longer, and stood up decisively, turned, and walked off. The Dormouse smirked…and instantly fell over into sleep.

"Aw, don' go oot lyke tha'!" pleaded the Hare, but Alice paid him no heed and marched up the hill as quickly as her shrunken legs could carry her.

When she got to the top, she turned around, hoping she might ask them for directions out of the woods…

The Mad Hatter tenderly picked up the sleeping dormouse in one hand and put her inside an open teapot before replacing its lid.

Alice Kingsleigh just kept on walking.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X: Lost Inside the Chaos**

"At any rate, I'll never go there again!" muttered Alice angrily. "It's the silliest tea party I've ever been to in all my life!"

_But, then again, it was much more…__**interesting**__ than the ones back home…_

Home. That word was becoming increasingly hopeless to locate…

"I've had enough of all this!" grumbled Alice Kingsleigh. "Whenever I want to ask which way to go, something always goes wrong, and I forget to altogether! At this rate, I'll end up being eaten by a rabid squirrel or something before I get directions! Perhaps I need a new plan…the first thing to do, obviously, is to get back to my usual height – being this size is infuriating! After that, the best thing to try is to get back to that Round Hall, and see what I can manage there. If all else fails…well, we'll just have to try the Queen's plan again."

This sounded reasonable enough. It was a good plan…very neat and simple enough to follow out and enact.

There was just one little problem: she STILL had no clue as to where she was.

Alice looked around. (She'd done that so often today, her neck was sore by this point.) She was back in the Tulgey Wood, but it was even darker here, and it seemed that at every turn some overgrown weed would block her path. Her undergarment was stretched, torn, and otherwise scraggled past the point of no return by all the obstacles and snags she'd encountered on her adventures thus far, and she felt she would very quickly need new clothing before she lost what she had entirely. Every sound startled her…every noise and wisp of wind made her heart jump. Adrenaline surged through her veins like wildfire in a rain forest. The whole wood was growing darker and darker still…

_**BAAAAAAWR!**_

_What in the world was that…?_

Alice turned quickly, terrified beyond belief at the awful roar. The trees fell like dominoes and the dirt turned up quickly as…SOMETHING, with a body like a giant bulldog, but with the spots of a leopard, the teeth of a shark, and the tail of a kangaroo attached, lumbered towards her. Its long, razor-edged claws were covered in a glossy fluid – poison, she figured. Altogether, it took Alice only a few seconds to decide to start running.

And run she did! The terrible thing in hot pursuit behind her. It roared and growled and snapped its jaws with what seemed to be rage. Alice ran on, determined not to let the beast – whatever it was – catch up to her. A weed caught her clothes, and she very briefly worried about the tear, but panic pushed that minor worry aside, and she took off again.

The weed was trampled by the creature soon after.

Alice did not stop running until a boulder (well, to _her _it was a boulder) blocked her path. It was so wide, she would not possibly be able to get around it fast enough to flee, and she certainly couldn't jump or climb over it.

She turned slowly, as the horrendous animal approached, slowing its pace, as if to inform her of the inevitable.

She shut her eyes, braced herself for the pain…

A rather loud, strange sound – something between a snarl and a whimper – came to her ears.

Alice opened her eyes.

The animal lay on its side in the dirt. It was only unconscious, it seemed, for its enormous chest area still heaved like a pump.

A bright red dart was in its head, behind an ear. Alice heard footsteps approaching on either side, and hurriedly hid behind the rock. She was just in time, as two towering figures appeared. Each wore rust red plated armor, including thick helmets that hid everything but their yellow eyes. Their arms and legs were flimsy but thick, like the appendages of stuffed toys, and the heads under their helmets were triangular in shape, but with a rounded top, almost like a teardrop. Their bodies were so very, very thin, and so very, very flexible, however, that had it not been for their armor plates, little Alice would have thought them to be disembodied heads and limbs. Their red armor was decorated with black heart shapes. One of them had three hearts on his, all in a column, while the other had five, four split into two columns, and the last in the center between them.

_Why, their playing cards! Giant, moving, living playing cards!_

"Well," scoffed the three card in a rough, gravelly voice. "So much for the _'frumnious' _Bandersnatch."

"Do you think we'll get a reward out of this?" asked the five card, his voice equally rocky in tone, but with a higher pitch.

"If we don't get back to Salazen Grum in good time, we'll get our ETERNAL reward," shuddered Three. "Here! Help me carry this thing…"

Alice decided to bother no more with this scene. She ran off again, until she felt quite out of breath…and very, VERY lost. It was so dark, she soon found she had to grope with her hands.

Unable to think, and feeling rather upset at everything that had happened, she collapsed to the ground and began to cry anew.

_Oh, why did I follow that White Rabbit? Why did I drink that potion? Why did I go to that tea party? Why can't I ever just be…NORMAL, like everyone else? What do I do now?_

Alice was in such a state of despair, she never noticed the shadow that loomed over her…

"Well, well! Looky what I found!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI: Tell the Hookah-Smoking Caterpillar…**

Alice looked up with a start. Then she sighed with almost profound relief.

"Oh…Chessur, it's you!"

"Whom did you expect?" purred the Cheshire Cat, cocking his head to one side, curiously. He flicked his wrist, and out of thin air a blue silk handkerchief appeared in his hand. He held it out to Alice and dabbed at her eyes.

"Th-thank you."

"You look as if you need some help…no personal offense, love, but you ARE a sight."

Alice looked down at her stained, stretched, scratched, torn (etc., etc.) undergarment. She couldn't help but smile.

"You're right," she murmered.

"I know," smiled the cat.

"How did you find me?"

"Accidentally, to be honest. I'm surprised to see you. Didn't I leave you with Tarrant, Mally, and Thackery?"

"You mean the Mad Tea Partygoers?"

"Yes, I do."

"I…I left. I couldn't get anything helpful out of them."

The cat smirked.

"Hatter's never going to live this down…" he muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Chess with a distracted shake of his head. "Could I possibly be of any assistance, little Alice?"

This was the last question Alice had expected out of anyone. But she didn't care at all.

"Yes, please! I want to figure out a way to get back to my normal height. Do you know how?"

"I can change size at will. Clearly, on that matter, I'm of no help."

Alice's heart sank.

"BUT…"

"But what?"

"…But, I might know someone who can."

"Please, will you bring me there, Cheshire-Puss?"

Chess chuckled at the nickname.

"I'm afraid I can't love. I'm forbidden from entering the domain of Absolem. Even _I_ dare not disobey such a rule."

"Absolem?" Alice inquired curiously. "Who…What is Absolem?"

Chessur did not reply. He only grinned a bit wider.

_Well, that is no help at all…_

"If you can't bring me to him, will you tell me where I can find him?"

Chessur nodded.

"Turn around," he growled.

Alice did. She saw a sort of path, going through a veritable forest of multicolored mushrooms. All along the path, a thick cloud of what looked like pale, blue-gray smoke covered it, like a fog.

"Follow the trail of smoke," said Chessur. "You'll find him at the end. Nothing evil enters that place…well, not without suffering consequences anyway."

Suddenly, the Hatter's words buzzed through Alice's head: _He's nut a very trustworthy cat, lass._

Alice shook the words away. The Cheshire Cat hadn't done anything yet!

But…then again…

"Cheshire-Puss…why can't you go in there?"

The cat did not answer her question. He laughed…_and floated into the air,_ before turning around and beginning to fly away like a bizarre, wingless bat or bird of prey.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

Chess turned back to Alice one last time.

"Away," he said vaguely, and promptly vanished in a cloud of mist.

Alice sighed and entered the Mushroom Patch. She followed the trail of smoke (which seemed to grow thicker every second, making her cough) along the path. Presently, the path grew wider…the mushrooms, at first pale shades of pink and yellow, became increasingly vibrant shades of red and green…and the smoke began to thin out again.

At last, Alice came to a small clearing in the patch. On two stool-sized mushrooms, a large, yellowed scroll sat, rolled up for now. In the center of the clear area was a large, red mushroom with neon yellow spots all over it.

And on top of the mushroom was a bright, blue caterpillar, wearing a monocle and smoking a water hookah, taking only the smallest interest in her as it looked upon her with cold, beady-looking eyes.

"Who are you?" asked the Caterpillar in a deep, dark voice with a slow, almost sleepy tone.

"A-Absolem?" Alice inquired, surprised. The Caterpillar was, quite literally, no taller than herself.

The smoking caterpillar rolled his eyes.

"_You're_ not Absolem…_I'M_ Absolem. My question was, 'Who are _**YOU?**__'"_

As the caterpillar said this, he blew a blue ring of smoke into Alice's face. She coughed and fanned it away.

"I…I-I hardly know, sir," choked Alice, so disoriented she didn't really realize what she was saying at all. "Just at present…I mean, I-I know who I was when I woke up, but I feel I've changed so much today…"

"Explain yourself," drawled Absolem.

"I can't explain myself," said Alice. "Because…I'm NOT myself, you see…"

"I do not see."

"I can't put it more clearly, sir, I'm afraid…I can't understand myself! Shrinking, growing, shrinking, growing, and then shrinking again so often is so confusing!"

"It is not."

"Well, perhaps not now, for you," Alice conceded, as patiently as she could. "But when you are all wrapped up in a chrysalis – that WILL happen to you, eventually, you know – and then transform into a butterfly, don't you think it will feel a bit strange?"

"No."

"Well…your feelings may be different from mine, but, personally…"

"You! Hah!" scoffed the Caterpillar, tossing his head contemptuously and crossing all of his free arms over his body. "_Who are __**YOU?"**_

_Oh, dear…now we're back at the beginning!_

"Alice, sir."

"Are you?"

"Well, of course I am!" Alice half-shouted, starting to lose her temper with the blue caterpillar. "I ought to know who I am!"

"Yes, you OUGHT," nodded Absolem, and mumbled under his breath, "Stupid girl…"

"Why wouldn't I know who I am?" Alice snapped, finally losing her temper a bit.

"Indeed: why wouldn't you?"

Confused and thoroughly outraged by the curt Caterpillar, Alice huffed and began to walk away.

"Wait," said Absolem, his voice oddly commanding. "I have some things you may want to hear."

This sounded promising, so, after a brief hesitation, Alice turned back to the Caterpillar and took a few steps back toward him.

Absolem looked at her long and hard, eyes totally emotionless.

"Keep your temper," he said flatly after a long silence.

Alice swallowed down a _very_ nasty word.

"Is…that all?" she almost screamed.

"No," the Caterpillar said matter-of-factly, shaking his round head, and then continued, asking, "What size do you want to be?"

"Well, I'd like to be a bit larger, sir, if you wouldn't mind," Alice said, a little more snappishly than she would have liked. "After all, three inches is such a wretched height to be -"

"IT IS A VERY GOOD HEIGHT INDEED!" the Caterpillar suddenly bellowed, standing up to its full height/length.

"But I'm not used to it!" Alice pleaded.

_Why are so many animals so argumentative here…?_

"You'll get used to it in time," shrugged Absolem, settling down. For a long time, he smoked his hookah in silence. Finally, he blew a very large smoke ring, the shape of a clover, into the air, yawned, and set down his pipe, beginning to curl up to sleep.

"Break off a piece here," he said, pointing to one part of the mushroom. "And another piece here," he added, pointing to another part directly across from it. "Quickly."

Alice followed the Caterpillar's instructions.

"One side will make you taller, and the other side will make you shorter," he grumbled. "Goodbye."

Before Alice could ask anything, Absolem snapped the "fingers" of one of his "hands," and suddenly, Alice Kingsleigh found herself back in the area where she'd met Chessur again. This time, however, the Mushroom Patch had disappeared.

Alice blinked and shook her head, before taking a look at the two pieces of mushroom in her hands.

_One will make me grow…the other will make me shrink…but WHICH ONE IS WHICH?_

Alice sighed, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. The first piece she looked at when she opened her eyes again was the one she chose to take a taste of first. She took a bite and cringed; it tasted like burnt toast. Then she waited for the effects…


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter XII: Everything is Downside-Up!**

Alice let out a yelp of surprise, as a sudden jolt hit her. Her ragged undergarment seemed to grow larger and larger, and she nearly dropped her mushroom pieces.

_If I keep shrinking at this rate, I'll disappear altogether!_

Dropping the piece she'd bitten, she hefted the other piece up in both arms and hurriedly took a bite.

There came another jolt, and she found herself rising higher. Alice Kingsleigh let out a sigh of relief...

Then a stunned gasp as she continued to grow...

Up, up, up she went! Higher and higher! Branches and twigs snapped and whipped around her, and more than one leaf found its way into her mouth, only to be quickly spat out again.

Unfortunately, and needless to say, the undergarment did not survive the sudden growth spurt.

_**SHHHHHRRRRRRKSH!**_

__Alice blushed a deep, violet-red, a shade that would have made a beet look like the White Queen's shawl. Her head poked out above the treetops, and she was glad the branches and leaves were about her. Her hair looked like a blonde, unkempt bush by this point, and a nest had found its way onto her shoulder.

A nest holding a cluster of eggs...and a very upset pigeon.

"EEK!" the pigeon shrieked, and let out a warning, avian hiss. "BACK! BACK, SERPENT! BACK!"

"S-serpent?" Alice stuttered.

"SERPENT! SNAKE! AS IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW! BACK, I SAY, AND KEEP AWAY FROM MY EGGS!"

"I'm not a snake!"

"Sure, you aren't. And I'm the Knave of Hearts! SERPENT! SERPENT! SERPENT!"

In her fury, the Mother Pigeon began to fly around Alice's head in circles, beating at her with her wings and trying to scratch her. Alice shut her eyes tight, letting out an indignant groan and trying to shake the pigeon away with her right hand. (She didn't dare move her left, for fear of upsetting the nest on her shoulder.)

"Leave me alone!"

"SERPENT!" the Mother Pigeon screamed, and then went on to herself, "Ooh, how I loathe them! No matter what I try, there's no getting away from them!"

"Wh-wh-what are you _talking _about?"

"Oh, please," the pigeon hissed. "Don't insult my intelligence! I've tried everything I can think of: roots, banks, hedges...as if it wasn't enough trouble laying and hatching my little eggs, it seems I cannot escape from those snakes! I haven't slept in seven weeks!"

"I see," Alice said sympathetically. "I'm so sorry you've been annoyed."

"Annoyed, indeed! If they aren't trying to eat my eggs, they're trying to swallow _me!_ It's _MADDENING!"_

_ So I can see..._

"And NOW," the Mother Pigeon went on, "just when I've taken the tallest branch in the tallest tree in all of the Tulgey Wood, and just as I begin to think I'm free of them...!"

She sniffed snootily in Alice's direction.

"But I am not a serpent."

"Oh, indeed? Well, what are you, then?"

"I...I'm just a little girl..."

Realizing the irony in this response, Alice blushed again. The pigeon let out a shrill cackle of laughter.

"Little? LITTLE? Oh, now, _THAT'S_ a good one! And I suppose you'll say that you don't eat eggs next?"

"Well...actually, yes, I have eaten eggs..."

The pigeon hissed again and resumed her attack.

"But I'm not hungry right now!" Alice almost shouted, trying to shoo the angry bird away again. "Besides, even if I was, I only eat chicken eggs, and I don't like them raw!"

The Mother Pigeon stopped briefly, eyeing Alice skeptically for a few moments, before letting out a huff of frustration and then settled down in her nest.

"Well, then, put my nest back, and be off with you!"

"With pleasure," Alice muttered, and did as the pigeon asked. Then she looked down, blushing even deeper.

Finally she saw what she was searching for: the mushroom piece she had dropped. It was barely the size of a baby's fingernail, and she very carefully reached down and picked it up between a finger and a thumb and licked it gently.

THOOP!

She found herself back to her normal height...and still stark naked.

Thankfully, she was behind a bush.

_Well, now what...?_

As if in answer, she felt a rough hand tap her on the shoulder. With a pitiful, wordless squeak of fright and embarrassment, she turned around.

There was nobody there.

But a blue dress and a lovely white apron were before her, along with stockings, striped in black and white, and black pointed shoes, along with a red hair ribbon.

_Just like what I wore when I first got here._

Alice touched the dress lightly.

_Someone must have found my dress and cleaned it...no...this isn't the same material...it's brand new! Someone made me a new dress!_

Without another thought, the little girl hurriedly put her strange (but much appreciated) gift on. She straightened her hair as best she could and exited from behind the bush.

"Whoever gave me this," she called out. "If you are still there...thank you."

No reply.

Alice put the pieces of mushroom in the pockets of her apron (just in case) and closed her eyes. Having long lost any sense of direction, she used the same method she had used to pick which mushroom piece to nibble to decide on which direction to go.

_...8...9...10...Left it is!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII: Painting Flowers**

Alice Kingsleigh had expected almost anything to happen as she walked deeper and deeper into the Tulgey Woods. A talking gnat, a man in a suit made of newspapers, a sheep knitting in a rocking chair, a lobster in a powdered wig...

One thing she had not expected to come across was a door, standing in the middle of a clearing, apparently leading to nowhere.

"Well, that's interesting...then again, what hasn't been so today?"

Alice approached the large door. It was painted a glaring white, and above it was painted an image of a dark green playing card club, inside a pink diamond, inside a black spade, inside a bright red heart.

Alice opened the door...

Nothing.

"How curious..."

Alice closed the door and decided to try the other side...

To her surprise, the door opened up to a beautiful garden. All the bushes and ferns were trimmed into perfect, geometric shapes. Cubes, spheres, prisms...and a multitude of hearts. On a large, golden pedestal in the shape of a heart was a large trimming in the shape of a woman's head with a heart-shaped hairdo wearing a small crown. Above all this was a great, red-and-white castle, its spires extending beyond the sky, its towers topped with red and black flags. All around were statues of (headless) fish, stone benches, and at least one-hundred rose bushes.

At one of these, she saw three playing-card men – similar to the ones she'd seen in the woods – all Spades: a Two, a Five, and a Seven. However, instead of armor, they wore black hoods, black boots, and black leather gloves. The hoods, like the helmets of the last Cards, hid their faces from sight, save for their glowing yellow eyes. Each was carrying a paintbrush, and on the ground between the Five and the Two was a bucket of red paint, while a small bowl of water lay beside the Seven.

Alice noted an oddity on the bushes: all of them held red roses, yet the roses on the bush with the Cards around it were white. The three Card Gardeners were busily _painting_ them red.

"Careful, Five!" Two said gruffly. "Don't go splashing paint everywhere like that!"

"I couldn't help it," Five whined. "Seven jogged my elbow!"

Seven looked up, his eyes holding an angry glint.

"That's right, Five," he growled. "Always lay the blame on others! Humph!"

"You'd better not talk," Five snarled back. "I heard the Queen say only yesterday you deserved to be beheaded..."

Seven gulped and went pale.

"What for?"

"That's none of your business, Two-"

"Yes, it _is_ his business! I'll tell you..."

Five paused and then whispered, "It was for bringing the Cook tulip-roots instead of onions."

Two gasped in horror.

"Well, of all the unjust things...!"

At that moment, Seven's eye fell upon Alice, and he shushed his companions and bowed. Two and Five followed suit.

"Why are you painting those flowers?" Alice asked, when she recovered enough from her confusion to speak.

Five and Two said nothing, but looked sideways at Seven. Seven beckoned Alice closer, and began to explain softly, "The fact is, Miss, we planted this white-rose bush by mistake, and the Queen only likes red roses...white ones remind her of her sister, whom she hates. And, if she were to find out about our error, she'd only have to say a word, and we'd all lose our heads."

"How dreadfully savage...!"

"Shh! Yes, we know. So, you see, we're doing our best, afore she comes, to paint them their proper color."

Alice nodded and took up an extra brush that sat in the water bowl, and set to work helping them, being very careful not to get any paint on her new clothes or hands and also taking care not to damage the petals.

She'd not even finished her first flower when Five suddenly hissed, "THE QUEEN! _THE QUEEN IS HERE!"_

The other two gardeners sputtered and gasped, and flung themselves, prostrate, on the ground. Alice dropped her brush in surprise, and looked up in the direction Five had been gazing at, and saw, at the top of a flight of stairs, seven figures approaching. Four of them appeared to be Card Soldiers, but unlike the ones from the Woods, these Cards had black armor covered in red symbols, not the other way around. All four of them were Aces, each from different suits.

The other three people were a bit more...normal in appearance. One was a large, stocky man with a short, gray beard, who wore a gold crown on his head lined in rubies. He wore red, regal robes with gold lining, and a scabbard studded with diamonds, in which was visible a sword with a hilt of gold, with silver designs of thorny branches set into it. He also wore a blue cape, with a white fur lining, and his eyes were piercing black.

_The Red King..._

The second man was tall and muscular, save for his absurdly long and thin legs. He wore a black uniform and armor, and a black cape with dark red lining He wore a red eyepatch in the shape of a heart over his left eye. The eyepatch did little to hide the intense scarring on his face, so that the left side was deformed while the right was unscathed...almost even handsome in appearance. Alice shivered at the strange, snake-like lack of light in his single eye, made all the more awful by his pale, leathery skin. His hair was curly and black. As he descended the stairs from the castle, he put on a pair of black leather gloves, covering his pale, clammy-looking hands, with short, perfect, clean nails.

_The...Knave of Hearts...?_

The last person, the only woman of the group, was the strangest of all. She wore a red skirt, covered in gold hearts, with golden petticoats. She wore a black bodice or blouse, with sleeves striped in red and gold, and a high, white collar, as well as a pearl necklace covered in black, heart-shaped pendants which dangled from each pearl ornament.

But what really caught Alice's attention was the woman's head: it must have been her face the topiary had been trimmed into, for her long, red hair was shaped into the same, heart-shaped hairdo, and a small, golden, crown ringed in rubies was atop her immense cranium, which was at least triple the size of the average human's head. She wore blue makeup on her eyelids, and scarlet lipstick. In one hand she carried a golden scepter, topped with a large ruby in the shape of a heart. Her cheeks were lightly blushed, and this only doubled the redness of oversized face, twisted in an expression of anger and confusion.

The last two had been only guesses, but there was no mistaking the identity of the large-headed lady.

_The Red Queen._

When the seven approached Alice, she was alarmed when the Card Guards pointed the deadly spears they carried in her direction.

"And who is this?" the Queen snapped, pointing at Alice with her scepter and turning to the Knave of Hearts as she spoke. The Knave shrugged.

"Imbecile!" the Queen hissed, tossing her head contemptuously. She turned to Alice, her eyes hard and steely. "What's your name, girl?"

"My name is Alice, if it pleases Your Majesty," Alice said timidly, and curtsied politely.

"Leave off of that bobbing around," she grumbled. "You're making me giddy."

Then the Queen noticed the prostrated gardeners, and arched an eyebrow curiously.

"Who are these?" she asked Alice, pointing towards the Cards.

"How should I know?"

Alice regretted her sudden bout of impudence, for the Queen turned positively crimson with fury and growled softly like a wild beast.

"OFF WITH HER HEAD!" the Red Queen screamed.

Alice whimpered softly and took a step back, as two of the Guards that had accompanied the Queen, King, and Knave advanced on her. The King stopped them, thankfully, with a wave of his hand and turned to his bride.

"Consider, my dear...she is but a child. Do give her another chance."

The Queen pouted like a spoiled child.

"Quite right, Wualf. Very well...but only one!"

As she spoke the last part, she glared fiercely at Alice, who gulped.

"Stayne?" the Red Queen barked. "Turn them over."

The Knave did so with one foot. The Cards looked up at the sky, lying flat on their backs, and Alice swore she could hear them praying.

"Hm. Gardeners. Rise!"

The Cards did immediately, and bowed deeply.

"And what are you three doing at this hour?" the Queen asked, her large nose in the air.

Then she noticed the rose bush the three gardeners had been working on, and squinted at it curiously, noticing the odd mix of white and red roses.

"What _have_ you been doing here?" the Knave asked the Gardeners, his single brow raised and a disgusting smirk tainting his already dark face. His voice was oily and soft.

"Well, sir," Two began. "We were trying to..."

He paused, clearly trying to think up an excuse.

"Never mind," the Red Queen said, her face going bright red again and her voice becoming dangerously quiet as she noticed the splattered paint on the ground. There was a pause, and then the Queen snapped around, her eyes boring into the Gardeners' guilty eyes.

"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!" she bellowed, and then hastily added. "No second chances, dear," to her husband, who sighed dismally and nodded.

"Oh, no, Your Majesty! Please!" all three Cards pleaded, almost in chorus. Their cries were in vain, as three of the four Guards grabbed them by the arms and dragged them away.

Alice shivered. She figured she would regret it later, but she couldn't help but feel grateful that the Queen did not suspect her of anything.

"Ah! Iracebeth, my dear, the court is here!" crowed the Red King, and clapped his hands once. Down the stairs came a small procession. Among the procession, Alice recognized the White Rabbit, now dressed in a cream-colored tunic with red sleeves, decorated with all four of the playing card suits, and also the Dodo, who wore a caddy's uniform. To Alice's surprise, his bag held not golfing clubs, nor croquet mallets, but flamingos, bound with metal straps about their wings and legs, and, instead of balls, he held hedgehogs, their feet bound with small pieces of rope.

The Red Queen's six courtiers, like herself, all possessed...oddities. There were three gentlemen, and three ladies. One man had an enlarged brow, while another had a quadruple chin, and the third had a wide, fat belly. The trio of women had equally strange features: one had ears twice as long and large as a normal person's, while another had a pointed nose almost a foot long, with the third bearing cleavage that was...

Alice couldn't find a polite word to use.

"Oh, yes!" the Queen smiled. "And how are we all today?"

"Well, Your Majesty!" the Six Courtiers chorused, their mouths bearing obviously phony smiles. The Queen didn't seem to notice their insincerity.

"Perfect. And is everything ready for the game?"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" chorused the Rabbit and the Dodo.

"Excellent."

Here the Red Queen turned to Alice.

"You, child," she snapped. "Can you play croquet?"

"Y-yes, Your-"

"Come, then!" the Queen commanded, and marched off, the King and the Knave of Hearts on either side of her, the Dodo behind her, and the fourth Card Guard – an Ace of Hearts – behind him. The Six courtiers followed, chattering and giggling and simpering like fools, and Alice and the White Rabbit took up the rear.

"L-lovely day, isn't it?" the Rabbit peeped quietly to Alice. Who looked down and smiled slightly.

"Very...well, unless you've been sentenced to execution..."

The Rabbit shook and nodded. There was a pause.

"Are you...Alice?"

Alice nodded, looking at the Rabbit questioningly.

"Yes. How did you...?"

"Uileam told me," he said quickly. "I don't believe we've met..."

_Or so you think..._

"Allow me to introduce myself: Nivens McTwisp, Royal Page."

Alice shook his paw, and stifled a giggle at the oddness of the action.

"Alice Kingsleigh. Pleasure to meet you sir."

"Yes, well...just call me McTwisp. Or Nivens. Either one."

Alice nodded, and turned away again.

"Mr. McTwisp?" she began after a short while.

"Y-y-yes, Alice?"

"I've noticed something strange – again – and I'd like to know...why is it that man with the large belly has straps tied about it?"

The Rabbit hesitated, looking about anxiously, and beckoned Alice to bend over. The young girl did so, and he whispered in her ear, "That belly is fake. The Red Queen has a...flair...for largeness. They are all frauds, but only the Palace staff knows it...no one has the heart tell the Queen that, nor the nerve."

Alice, recalling the woman with the enlarged breasts, let out a short scream of laughter at this revelation.

"Oh, hush! Hush!" the Rabbit whispered, panicked. "The Queen will hear you! And when anyone displeases her..."

"GET TO YOUR PLACES!" the Red Queen bellowed, in a voice like a clap of thunder. _**"LET THE GAME COMMENCE!"**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter XIV: Flamingo Lawn Croquet**

People and Animals began rushing about, trying to get to their proper places, bumping into each other on occasion. Once everyone was settled, the Knave of Hearts let out a shrill whistle. Gardeners poured into the croquet ground, and ran to their spots. So the game began.

Alice had never seen such a bizarre game of croquet in her life; the entire ground was lined in ridges and furrows, with trees and topiaries for obstacles. The hedgehogs served as balls, the flamingoes as mallets, and the Cards had to double themselves up and stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.

With so many living things involved, Alice thought it was surprising that she was the only one having difficulty, at first.

_Then again, perhaps they are all used to it..._

Alice's first main problem was working her flamingo; the creature's neck and head were not bound, and, just when she had set it up to take a swing, it would twist its head up and look at her, with both the saddest and most confused expression she had ever seen, and its gaze would catch her attention so raptly that it took her a moment to get it set up again. Plus, seeing as the doubled-up Gardeners were always standing up and moving around to reposition themselves elsewhere on the grounds, and not forgetting the quantity of furrows, ridges, and vegetation, little Alice Kingsleigh came to the conclusion that, overall, it was a tricky game to play.

Many of the players were impatient, it seemed, quarrelling over whose turn it was and which hedgehog it was and anything else they could argue about. The Red Queen, who had slipped on a pair of dark glasses with pink rims, was soon near-apoplectic with fury, her face the color of the ruby on her scepter, and almost as shiny from the sweat on her ponderous brow. In no more than fifteen minutes, her shouts of "Off with their heads!" were so loud Alice swore she could have heard them from twenty miles away, and in a hurricane. Thankfully, the Red King was able to pardon everyone – usually without his wife's permission – before the Card Guards took them away, but it was still very unsettling.

_I think it would do me well to get out of here, or, at any rate, stay as far away from the Queen as possible...she's so terribly fond of decapitating people...I'm surprised that there is anyone left in this country alive at all!_

As she was looking about, trying to formulate a way to escape from the potentially deadly game without being seen, and hopefully find the strange door again, she heard a voice whisper into her ear.

"You seem to be your right size now."

"Hello, Cheshire-Puss. Yes, I am...or as close as I'll probably ever get to it anyways."

Chessur laughed softly. Alice turned to face him...

And that was all she could see. His face, complete with a cat's head, but with no body visible. She blinked, taking this oddity in her stride, and turned back to see about her turn. She gazed with some pity down at her hedgehog; the spiny little creature was quivering softly, and she wasn't sure if she really wanted to hit it at all.

_This is cruel..._

"I think I liked you better when you were smaller," Chess purred. "At least then I could hide you in my mouth if the need presented itself."

Alice blanched.

"Would you?"

"Certainly not," Chessur growled. "I can't stand the taste of people...their blood is like a raw, ripe lemon."

He smacked his lips in emphasis. Alice sighed, relieved.

"Don't scare me like that..."

"My apologies. I'll try to refrain from terrifying you in the future...if there is one. Anyway, how are you getting on?"

"Not very well," Alice sighed, and looked up at him again. "Hardly anyone here plays fair...then again, I can't even tell if there are any real rules, and, if there are, I'm not really sure of what they are. The fact that everything is alive just makes it more confusing! For example: the arch I've got to go to next is at the other end of the ground, standing up, and I should have croqueted the Queen's hedgehog a while ago, only my flamingo dropped down when I tried."

The look in the cat's eyes told her he knew something she didn't, and he vanished. Alice rolled her eyes, and turned back to her hedgehog, which seemed to have fallen asleep...

"Speaking of which, how do you like the Red Queen?"

Chessur was nowhere to be seen, but Alice could plainly hear his voice, which was now only the faintest of whispers.

"Not at all!" Alice snorted. "She's so extremely-"

She stopped abruptly, noticing the wicked Queen had walked up, and was only a few feet away, listening to her as she spoke while pretending to be concentrated on her hedgehog.

"...Likely to win, that it's hardly worthwhile finishing the game!"

The Queen smiled, croqueted her hedgehog, and passed on.

"Nice save," the cat whispered, reappearing in full, tail twitching slightly.

"Thank you," Alice replied with a sigh.

"Who are you talking to?" asked the Knave, eyeing the Cheshire Cat darkly as he strode towards them. Alice shuddered, and the cat let out a soft meow of what sounded like fear.

"H-he's a friend of mine...a Cheshire Cat..."

"I don't like the look of him at all. He must be removed!"

Before anything could be done or said otherwise, the Knave of Hearts called out across the grounds, "My Queen! I think it would be best to have this Cat removed!"

The Queen had only one way of settling all problems, great or small.

"Off with his head," she said in a bored tone, not even bothering to turn around or look in the Knave's direction.

"I'll fetch the Executioner myself," the Knave began, but, when he turned around, the Cat had disappeared.

He looked at Alice, clearly befuddled. The girl shrugged innocently.

"Well?" the Queen called. "Is its head off?"

The Knave of Hearts hesitated.

"His head...is quite gone, Your Majesty."

"Good. Now, keep playing."

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty."

The Knave left, still gazing about in puzzlement, and Alice let out a sigh of relief.

She looked down upon her hedgehog again...

It was gone.

And where it had once been, there was only shredded rope.

_The poor little creature must have managed to bite through its bonds..._

"Why aren't you playing, girl?"

Alice let out a short gasp. Where had the Queen come from...?

"Um...m-my ball...it seems to have run off, Your M-M-Majesty..."

The Queen nodded, once, and called over a Guard.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Find this girl's ball and remove it of its head."

"As you command."

"'As I command' what?"

"Your...Majesty?"

"That's better. Go."

The Guard bowed and stamped away. The Queen turned to the Dodo, who stood beside her.

"Go find this girl a new ball, caddy. And hurry, or I'll have the Cook bake you for Wintreon."

The Dodo cringed.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he said, and hurried off.

Then the Red Queen turned back to Alice.

"Have you met my librarian yet?"

"No, Your Majesty...or, at least, I don't think I have..."

"Well, then, while we are awaiting your new ball, perhaps you would like to speak with him?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I think that I would."

_Anything to get out of this zoo..._

The Queen nodded again, and gestured for Lord Brow to come over. The Courtier with the enlarged forehead did.

"Take this girl to The Wall. She wishes to speak with the Royal Librarian. Perhaps he can amuse her while she's waiting for a new ball."

Lord Brow bowed.

"It shall be done," he said, and turned to Alice.

"Follow me," he said, and began to walk away.

Alice eagerly followed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter XV: I Am the Eggman**

Lord Brow brought Alice Kingsleigh around to the back of the Red Castle, and pointed off towards a tall wall, surrounding a small garden of vegetables, small trees and bushes, and various kinds of red flowers. Sitting on top of the wall, Alice spotted a strange figure, the exact shape and color of a light brown hen's egg. Its lower half bore a gray suit, with a high collar and a lovely, gold and silver band...Alice couldn't tell what the band was supposed to be, since it was very difficult to distinguish the figure's top from its bottom. In terms a face, it seemed to be painted on, with sharp, pale blue eyes, a bulbous red nose, and a mouth that stretched so far Alice couldn't tell if he was frowning or smiling. The figure, like the Cards, had limbs like those of a stuffed toy, and was totally engrossed in a small, black book, the title of it written in a language Alice was not sure she understood...it looked like the letters spelled _Enckles yenter Frengadea. _(Whatever that meant...)

Even before Lord Brow said the Royal Librarian's name, Alice was certain she knew who he was; she would have known his identity if she were blind.

"Humpty Dumpty," Lord Brow intoned, and, without another word, left the area.

_How rude..._

Alice slowly approached Humpty Dumpty, who never seemed to notice her once.

For a while she just looked at him.

"How like an egg he is..." Alice said to herself.

"It's so provoking," Humpty Dumpty growled, still looking into his book, "To be mistaken for an egg...really, it is!"

Alice shook her head rapidly, surprised that the librarian had heard her.

"I'm sorry...I only said you _looked_ like an egg, sir. And," Alice added gently, "some eggs are really very pretty, you know. Especially around Easter!"

"Some people," Humpty Dumpty said, turning to a tree directly behind him as he spoke, "have less sense than a baby!"

He turned back to his book.

Alice cocked her head to one side, confused by the "eggman" and his peculiarities, and softly, unconsciously, recited the well-known poem in which the Librarian found fame:_ "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall! All the King's horses, and all the King's men, couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again..._that last line is a bit too long for poetry..."

"What, what? Who's there?" Humpty Dumpty cried out, as if startled, and looked around. Finally, his blue eyes caught sight of Alice, and he sighed, placing his book into a pocket on the lining of his suit jacket. He crossed his legs and arms and frowned.

"Well, child? Don't stand there gawking and chattering to yourself like that! Come, now, tell me your name and business."

"My name is Alice Kingsleigh-"

"Odd sort of name to have! What does it mean?"

Alice raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Must a name mean something?"

"Of course, silly girl!" scoffed Humpty Dumpty. "What would we be without a name? Our names give us our forms, our characters, and without a name we are almost useless. _My_ name, for instance, defines my shape...and a fine shape it is!"

Here the eggman chuckled and smirked down at Alice.

"With a name like yours, you might as well be a shapeless blob."

Alice bit her tongue to refrain from saying something unpleasant, and took a deep breath.

"Why are sitting out here alone, Mr. Humpty Dumpty?"

"What is this, girl? A game of Questions? Well, the answer to that one is obvious: because no one is out here with me...besides yourself, of course. Next!"

"Don't you think it would be safer if you were on the ground?" Alice asked, after a short pause, not in an effort to continue with the supposed "game," but merely out of good-natured worry for the strange character. "I mean, that wall is very narrow..."

Humpty Dumpty laughed.

"What tremendously easy questions you ask! Of I course I don't think so! Besides, if I ever _did_ fall off...which there is no chance of, naturally...but, if I ever _DID..._"

"The King will send men and horses to help you."

"HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT?" Humpty Dumpty roared, standing up on the wall so fast Alice had to stop herself short of holding out her arms to catch him, feeling certain he would fall at any moment.

"I...read it in a book..."

"Ah," Humpty Dumpty said. "Well, that's all well and good. They might just write such a thing into a book...that's what one calls a History, or a Biography!"

"The latter would fit best..."

"Excellent, excellent!" Humpty Dumpty chortled, beaming with pride and clapping his hands together. "I am quite pleased! I must thank you for this news, my dear girl...what was your name again?"

"Alice."

The eggman, without warning, reached down with one hand, steadying himself with the other, and seized one of her own hands, shaking it hard.

"Alice! Alice, you say? Oh, joyous and bright day; not only am I honored by the King of Underland, and not only am I in a book, but I am shaking hands with_ Alice!"_

"H-h-have we met?" Alice gasped out, surprised, and hurriedly jerked her hand away, fearing it might be torn off.

"Of course we have: just now!"

Alice blinked, unable to think of any other response.

"My apologies, Ms. Alice," the eggman said with a deep bow, catching himself before he toppled to the ground. "If you don't mind my saying, this conversation is going a bit too fast. Let us return to the remark before the last remark before this one."

"I can't quite recall..."

"Then, let us start afresh. My turn to choose a subject!"

Alice pursed her lips.

"Is everything a game to you?"

"No more questions, silly Alice!" chuckled Humpty Dumpty, ignoring her and wagging a finger. "As I said, it is my turn. Question number one: how old did you say you were?"

"Eight years old."

"Liar and cheat!" Humpty Dumpty exclaimed. "You never said anything like that!"

"I thought you meant to ask me, 'How old are you?'"

"Nonsense, girl. If I had meant that, I'd have said it."

Alice said nothing.

"Eight years old, you say," Humpty Dumpty repeated thoughtfully, scratching his "chin." "What an unfortunate age. If you'd have asked me, I would have advised you to leave off at seven-and-six-months. But it's too late for that now..."

"You can't ask for advice on growing!"

"Why not? I'm not too proud to do THAT. Are you?"

Alice huffed indignantly.

"I only meant to say that one cannot help getting older!"

"One, no. But two? Perhaps! Anything's possible! Who knows...? Maybe, had you been given the proper assistance, you could have left off at seven-and-six-months..."

"What a lovely belt you have on!" Alice interrupted, tired and confused with the discussion of aging. "Or is it a cravat...? Oh, my apologies!"

Humpty Dumpty scowled, his pale brown shell/face turning a distinct lavender tone.

"I'm really so sorry...it's so hard to tell your neck from your waist..."

"It's a cravat, foolish girl! And this is my neck!" snapped the Librarian, pointing at the golden band wrapped around him.

"Oh. Wh-where did you get it?"

Humpty Dumpty peered around carefully, and leaned forward slightly.

"It was an Unbirthday Present from the White Queen and her Court."

"...Why are you whispering?"

The eggman shuddered.

"The Red Queen," he replied. "She is jealous, vain, and hateful towards her sister...the very mention of the White Queen drives her mad. I don't wish to lose my head."

Alice nodded, understanding, and tried a new question: "What is an Unbirthday Present?"

Humpty Dumpty looked at her as if she had grown a foot for a nose.

"A present given on one's Unbirthday, obviously!"

"I beg your pardon-"

"I'm not offended..."

"...But what is an Unbirthday?"

"Quite simple: now, there are 365 Days in a year, yes?"

"Yes."

"Well, now, statistics prove that you've _one_ birthday, eh?"

"Well, yes..."

"Aha! But, don't you see? There!"

Alice blinked again.

"I still don't understand."

Humpty sighed, frustrated.

"Well, what do you think an Unbirthday would be?"

"Any day...that...isn't a person's birthday?"

"Precisely. Down here, birthdays are meaningless; why celebrate only one day out of the year, when you can celebrate any day you want to with the remaining 364 that are left?"

"I see."

Just then, a loud shout – it sounded like the voice of the White Rabbit – sounded out across the Castle Grounds.

_"THE TRIAL IS BEGINNING!"_

"I suggest, Ms. Alice," Humpty Dumpty whispered, "that you go to the trial...I'll follow if I can."

Alice nodded, curtsied, and ran off. Seeing the procession leaving the croquet yard, she followed them towards a smaller building, like a miniature church, with a shape and color scheme that matched the castle.

Then, from behind her came a loud, horrible _**CRASH!**_

Alice turned around and saw four horses and a handful of Red Knights, along with eight Card Guards and seven Gardeners, head towards The Wall.

Alice began to head back...

"Come on!" called a voice, impatiently. Alice looked over to the building. Over the door was a plaque reading "Judgement Area," and just outside the entry stood Lady Long Ears, beckoning Alice over.

Hesitantly, the young girl obeyed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter XVI: Kangaroo Court**

The Judgement Area was a small courtroom. On a tall judge's platform, which looked like it was made of Playing Cards, sat the Red King and Queen. The Queen was grumbling and muttering sulkily under her breath, while the King, who seemed to be playing the role of the Judge, was removing his crown and putting on, in its place, a white powdered wig. To the right of the King, on another platform, stood Nivens McTwisp, the White Rabbit, holding a scroll in one paw and a brass trumpet in the other. To the left of the Queen, on the ground, leaning against the platform slightly, was the Knave of Hearts, who eyed the entire room with an air of utter boredom.

Alice was seated at the back of the room. In the center of the room, she saw a small table, on which was a platter of strange looking tarts, filled with what looked to be bright purple jelly.

_I hope they finish the trial soon...those tarts do look scrumptious..._

_I wonder what kind of jelly that is..._

In the jury box were seated twelve different animals. Among them, Alice recognized some of the jurors as Uileam the Dodo, the Lory, the Eagle, the Owl, and the Duck, along with the Red Queen's Courtiers. Each of them was equipped with a slate tablet and a stick of chalk. One of them – the Duck – was already scribbling something on a slate, and, to Alice's distress, his chalk squeaked as he wrote. Quickly and quietly, Alice went over to the jury box and, when the Duck turned his back, slipped the chalk out of his hand and scurried back to her seat. The miserable fowl attempted to write with a finger/feather on the slate, but found this to be of little use, since it left no mark whatsoever.

Once Alice had settled back into her seat, the King slammed down the gavel in his hand. The Knave visibly winced at the loud, sudden noise, placing a gloved hand over one ear.

"Bring in the prisoner!"

Alice looked back over her shoulder as a pair of Red Knights escorted a large trout, dressed like a butler in red livery who moved about the room by "walking" on his tail, into the courtroom, his hands (or, rather, fins) bound by a thick piece of rope. His gray, slick-scaled tail was quivering - had he any knees, they would surely be knocking together in fright - and he gulped, his eyes closing tight, as he gazed up at the Red Queen, who glared down upon him.

"Herald!" barked the Red King. "Read the accusation."

The White Rabbit blew three blasts on his trumpet.

_BAH-BAH DAH!_

Tucking his instrument under his shoulder, the Rabbit opened up his scroll, and read thus:

"Your Majesty, Ladies, Gentlemen, Loyal Subjects, Members of the Crimson Court, and...er...ornaments the suspect is charged with encouraging Her Majesty, Iracebeth of Crims, the Red Queen of Underland, into the baking of seven tarts, only to, having enticed her into a game of croquet as a distraction, steal three of said treats, and, thereby, willfully and maliciously, tease and torment and otherwise infuriate our beloved monarch-"

"ENOUGH!" bellowed the Queen. "Skip to the good part!"

The Rabbit gulped, nodded, and hurriedly read the last line of the scroll.

"...Thus causing the Queen to lose her temper."

_...THAT'S the "good part?"_

The Red King nodded gravely and turned his gaze to the Jurors.

"Consider your verdict."

"Oh, no! Not yet, not yet!" McTwisp hastily interrupted, his paws quivering nervously. "We must speak with the witnesses first, Your Majesty."

The King sighed.

"Very well. Call the first Witness!"

The Rabbit blew two more blasts – _BAH-DAH! – _and called out, "Tarrant Hightopp, the Mad Hatter."

The Doors opened again, and in came the Mad Hatter and the March Hare, the former of which carried the Dormouse's teapot.

The Hare took the teapot and sat beside Alice. He grinned at her crookedly.

"Helloo," he whispered.

Alice nodded and gave a small smile in reply.

The Hatter walked up to the front of the room, standing at his full height, one hand in his coat pocket, the other hanging limp at his side, its fingers twitching subtly.

"Off with your hat!" snapped the Queen.

The Hatter smirked slightly and whisked the top hat off of his head, his orange hair matted down where it had once sat. He brushed some dust off of it. Alice could see, from where she was, that his eyes were green, spotted with a golden-yellow color...not quite orange, but getting there.

"Why did you bring the teapot?" the King asked.

"Well, Your Majesty, we hadn't quite finished our tea when we were called."

"You ought to have finished," the Queen said, raising one enlarged eyebrow. "When did you begin?"

The Hatter tapped his chin in thought for a moment.

"The...fourteenth of March...I _think..._"

"Gae! Fifteenth!" cried the March Hare, slamming down a fist.

"No! The Sixteenth!" shouted the Dormouse, who jumped up out of the teapot.

"All very important!" the King said with a short nod, and snapped his fingers. "Jury, write them down!"

Eagerly, the Jury Members all wrote down the three dates, added them up, and reduced the solutions to shillings and pounds.

"Stupid things...!"

Alice was stopped short by the Dormouse, who shushed her quickly.

Alice rolled her eyes as the Jurors all wrote "stupid things" on their slates.

"You may stand down."

The Mad Hatter giggled crazily.

"Please, Your Majesty, I cannot go any lower! Why, I'm on the floor as it is."

"Then you may _sit_ down."

The Hatter seemed to ponder this.

"With all due respect...I think I'd rather we finished our tea."

"You may go!" the King groaned, exasperated, and the Hatter, Hare, and Dormouse hurriedly left the courtroom.

At the same moment, Alice felt a curious and familiar sensation come over her: very slowly, she realized, she was starting to grow again. For a minute, she felt it would be wise to excuse herself and leave the courtroom, but then decided, for fear of angering the Red Queen, to stay where she was while there was room.

"I wish you wouldn't squeeze so," hissed a gerbil who sat next to her. "I can hardly breathe!"

"I can't help it...I'm growing..."

"You can't grow in here!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous...you know you're growing, too."

"That may be so, but _I_ grow at a reasonable pace," the Gerbil said crossly, and got up and moved to another seat at the back of the room.

"Next witness!"

"Dormyla, the Long-Tailed Mouse!"

As Dormyla sauntered into the courtroom, she tripped on her tail. A guinea pig in the juror's box began to laugh and was suppressed by a Card Guard at the Queen's command. (That is to say, the Card stuffed it into a burlap bag and tossed it out the window.)

Alice giggled, but covered it with a cough, for fear of being "suppressed" as well.

"Give your evidence," ordered the King as the Prima Donna mouse came to the front of the court.

"I shan't!"

The King looked over to the White Rabbit, a bit anxiously.

"Your Majesty must cross-examine this witness," the Rabbit whispered.

"Well, so be it," sighed the King in a melancholy manner, and then scowled at the mouse, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her so hard his eyes seemed to disappear from sight. He paused impressively, and then said, in a deep, grinding voice, "Tell me, _rodent..._what do you think tarts are made of?"

"Um...treacle?"

Another guinea pig laughed as was suppressed.

"Collar that rat! Suppress her! Pinch her! OFF WITH HER WHISKERS!" roared the Red Queen.

Dormyla left the room fast, followed by a pair of Red Knights, who soon reentered.

"Escaped, Your Majesties."

"Never mind!" the Red King said with relief, interrupting his wife, who had opened her mouth to say something. He turned to her and whispered, "Really, Racey, I think the next time cross-examination is needed, we'll have to leave it to you or Sir Illosovic...my head aches..."

Alice snorted softly, and turned her gaze to McTwisp, who was fumbling with the list of witnesses.

Imagine her surprise at what he said:

"Her name is...Alice?"


	17. Chapter 17

Notes: The poem in this chapter, _The White Rabbit's Evidence,_ is from the original _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ by Lewis Carroll. I do not have any ownership of it...frankly, I wasn't even born when it came out! And now...

**Chapter XVII: Outlaw! Disorder!**

"Present!" Alice said, rising fast...and at the same time rapidly growing so tall she nearly hit her head on the ceiling.

Alice's hand struck the jury box, knocking it over, and her seat was crushed under her heel. Utter pandemonium set in, as various animals and people raced around, trying to right themselves.

"Oh, sorry!" Alice exclaimed, and hurriedly began picking them up, as if they were dolls, and set them back on their feet, much to their general discomfort

"The trial can't proceed until all the jurymen are back in their seats. I repeat, ALL," cried the King, who seemed virtually unaffected by Alice's sudden growth spurt, even as his bride, the Knave, and the Rabbit stared up in shock.

Alice quickly righted the jury box. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Duck grab a piece of chalk up from the floor, along with his empty slate. He smiled, and raced back to his seat in the jury box, followed by his fellow jurors. The Owl, whom the dropped chalk had belonged to, was content with twiddling his "thumbs" whilst staring at the ceiling for the remainder of the trial.

The Red King coughed, clearing his throat, and looked up at Alice sternly.

"And what do you know about this terrible business?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing whatever?" pressed the Queen.

"Nothing whatever!"

"THAT'S VERY IMPORTANT!" the King cried victoriously.

"Er...unimportant, Your Majesty means, of course..." peeped the White Rabbit, with a sarcastic frown the King didn't seem to catch.

"Oh...of course," the King said, calming down immediately, and then began muttering, "Important...unimportant...unimportant...important...?" as if trying to decide which word he liked better, and went on like this for quite some time until he was stopped by the Red Queen, who conked him over the head with her scepter.

Alice looked down and noticed that the jurors were writing "Important or Unimportant?" on their slates.

_They'll never solve this case at this rate..._

The King cleared his throat again, and flipped open a red book, reading the following: "Rule Fourty-Two: 'All persons, and animals, more than a mile high are not allowed in the Judgement Area."

Everyone turned their eyes up to Alice.

"I am not a mile high!"

"Yes, you are."

"Nearly two miles high," put in the Knave of Hearts.

"I'm not leaving," Alice said shortly, surprised with her own courage.

The King paled slightly, putting the book away, and whispered something to the Queen, who nodded, narrowing her eyes and briefly looking towards Alice.

"Consider your verdict..." the King began again.

"Wait! Wait!" cried a voice, as a Red Knight ran to the front of the room.

"What is it, Seven?"

"Your Majesties, this paper has just been picked up!"

"Give it to the Rabbit," the Queen said.

The Knight did so, and the Rabbit used a short, sharp claw to open the envelope he was given.

"Well, what is it?"

"Why, it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to...well..."

"Well?" interrupted the Queen. "Who is Well?"

The Knave, and several members of the jury, slapped their hands to their faces.

"...Somebody, I was going to say, Your Majesty."

"Ohh..."

"Well, obviously!" groused the Red King. "Otherwise it would have been addressed to Nobody, which wouldn't make sense at all!"

"Who, precisely, is it directed to?" asked the Lory.

"I'm not sure," the Red Knight who had given the Rabbit the envelope answered. "There is nothing written on the outside."

The Rabbit pulled a folded paper from the envelope, and unfolded it. His pink eyes widened slightly.

"It isn't a letter at all!" he said. "It's a set of verses!"

"Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?" queried the Eagle.

"No...that's what's so curious about them..."

Everyone began to chatter, befuddled.

"Well, obviously, he imitated another's hand," said the King.

"Please, Your Majesty," the Fish Butler began softly, speaking for the first time. "I didn't write it...there's no name signed on the end!"

"Ha!" cried out the King, triumphantly. "That only makes things worse for you! You must have meant some sort of mischief, or else you would have signed your name like an honest trout!"

There was applause at this moment; it was the first intelligent thing the Red King had said all day.

"That proves it!" crowed the Queen. "He IS guilty! _OFF WITH HIS H-!"_

"Ahem! Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Stayne?"

"Perhaps it would be wise to look at the verses, and see what they're about?"

"An excellent suggestion!" the King said. "It might tell us _why_ the scoundrel committed the crime!"

"I was hungry!" wailed the Fish Butler.

"A likely story," the King said, waving a hand dismissively, although the look in his eyes seemed to say that he felt this was indeed the case. "Herald, read the verses."

"Wh-wh-where should I begin?"

"Start at the beginning," the King said gravely. "And, when you get to the end...stop."

The Rabbit nodded, and began:

"_They told me you had been to her,_

_And mentioned me to him:_

_She gave me a good character,_

_But said I could not swim._

"_He sent them word I had not gone_

_(We know it to be true!)_

_If she should push the matter on,_

_What would become of you?  
_

"_I gave him one, they gave him two,_

_You gave us three, or more;_

_They all returned from him to you,_

_Though they were mine before._

"_If I or she should chance to be_

_Involved in this affair,_

_He trusts you to set them free,_

_Exactly as we were._

"_My notion was that you had been_

_(Before she had this fit)_

_An obstacle that came between_

_Him, ourselves, and it._

"_Don't let him know she liked them best,_

_For this must ever be_

_A secret, kept from all the rest,_

_Between yourself and me."_

The King seemed to grow rather uncomfortable as the verses finished. The Queen looked over at him, concerned. He coughed, clearing his throat once again.

"That's the most important...piece of evidence we've heard yet," he said, slowly, uncertainly, causing the Knave to look up at him, curiously. "So, now, let the jury..."

"If any one of them can explain it," Alice broke in, so large and so annoyed by the antics of the courtroom that she no longer cared if she angered the Red Queen or not, "I'll give him sixpence. I don't find an atom of meaning in it!"

The jurors all wrote down, "Alice doesn't find an atom of meaning in it," on their slates, but none of them ventured to explain the poem.

"Well, if there is no meaning in these verses," the King said, brightening up, "Then that saves us a world of trouble, because we don't need to try and find any!"

He then placed the verses over his lap and put on a pair of spectacles, and gazed at the verses with what seemed like divine concentration, but wise little Alice could tell he was only pretending to read them.

"I don't know, though...I seem to find meaning in them after all..._'said I could not swim.'_ You can't swim, suspect, can you?"

"Do I look like it?" moaned the Fish Butler.

_...Yes..._

The King went on: _"'We know it to be true.'_ That's the jury, of course! Hmm..._ 'I gave him one, they gave him two.'_ That must be what he did with the tarts, you know..."

"But it goes on, _'they all returned from him to you!'"_

"And there they are!" the King laughed, pointing at the tarts on the table. "Nothing could be clearer than that! Now," the King began again, for the umpteenth time, "let the jury consider their verdict!"

"No, no!" cried the Red Queen. "Sentence first! Verdict afterwards!"

"Stuff and nonsense!" laughed Alice. "The idea of having the sentence first...!"

"Hold your tongue!" the Queen snapped.

Alice glared, and bent over, looming over the Queen, who turned distinctively paler.

"Who cares for you?" she said. "Your nothing but a big-headed tyrant, and your soldiers are not but a pack of cards!"

Alice instantly regretted those wordsÂ¸ for, before you can say "Time flies," she found herself shrinking again, and soon was once again her usual height.

For a moment, there was a deathly silence.

The Queen's face went from white, to pink, to red, to a deep, horrid shade of purple.

"What did you say?" she growled.

Alice gulped. The Rabbit foolishly ventured forward...

"I...I believe she said that the soldiers were nothing but cards, and that she called you a...big-headed...tyrant..."

The Queen's scream shook the entire castle.

_**"OFF WITH HER HEAD!"**_


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter XVIII: Gotta Run!**

_Faster! Faster!_

Alice Kingsleigh was lost.

That was not a good thing.

She'd been running up and down, through the maze of bushes, hedges, and topiary's of the Red Castle Grounds for almost ten minutes, and hadn't taken a break once; the clattering of armored feet behind her kept her moving. She was running on pure adrenaline, and tiring fast.

She ducked behind a tree, and a Hand of Cards ran past, not noticing her, and then took off again.

Finally, she found it: the door, where she had first entered the Castle Grounds. With a wordless exclamation – almost a gasp – of relief, she darted for it.

_At last! Now I can get out of this madhouse!_

She grabbed the knob...

Locked.

Panicking, she tried the other side.

Still locked.

_...No...no, no NO!_

"There she is! Grab her!"

She looked up in a hurry, and two Card Guards sprinted up, truncheons held over their heads. Alice screamed, dashing away and into another section of the garden.

She ducked down, trying to hide herself in a small corner, filled with red roses.

A Red Knight appeared, a crossbow held tight in his hands, looking around with deadly intent.

Alice moved slightly, breathing quietly and heavily...and scratched herself on a thorn.

The girl let out a yelp, and a bolt from the crossbow imbedded itself in the ground, directly between the index finger and middle finger of her right hand. Alice jumped up and ran right at the Knight, who hurried to try and reload his crossbow.

Quick as a flash, the agile young lady dived between his legs, causing him to fall on his face, and then ran on.

She reached another section of the grounds, and found an empty, apparently out-of-order fountain, shaped like the Red Queen herself. She hid inside the fountain, and six Cards entered the court. They came by the fountain, their yellow eyes darting about. Each carried a long, sharp spear.

Alice ducked her head down, barely even daring to breathe in terror.

Her fear increased tenfold when the fountain statue's eyes _blinked, _and then opened, revealing glowing, scarlet irises.

With an ominous grinding sound, the large, sculpted stone head of the statue turned its head toward her, sneering, and pointed at her with its scepter.

Alice shook her head in a panic, whimpering softly.

"Please, no...don't...!"

"OVER HERE! _OFF WITH HER HEAD!"_ roared the Statue-Queen, and a spray of water shot from a hole in her scepter. Alice sputtered and coughed, quickly climbing out of the fountain and dashing out of the courtyard, as the Statue continued to shriek behind her, the noise soon accompanied by the clattering and tumbling of the Red Knights.

Alice ran back to the wall, where she found a group of Cards trying to put Humpty Dumpty back together again with paste, while their horses watched with solemn, grave faces.

Alice staunchly refused to giggle, hiding behind a tree, its branches and leaves cut into the shape of a swan, and watching, wondering what to do next.

A shard of eggshell was pasted onto the jigsaw-puzzle remains of Humpty's body. On it was one of his eyes.

The eye caught sight of Alice in an instant, and the crooked, badly-cemented mouth of the Royal Librarian turned up at the edges in a smile.

"Why, hello, Alice."

The Knights turned fast.

Thankfully, Alice had run off even faster.

This went on for at least another twenty minutes, or so it seemed to Alice. After nearly half an hour of running, she finally found a spot devoid of Cards, and hid behind a hedge, silently praying the Cards had passed this area, and wouldn't think of looking here. She hugged her knees, sitting down, her face white as a sheet, her hair falling over her face, her blue eyes wide and filled with tears, threatening to fall.

Then...

_Clump, clump, clump, clump..._

Not the footsteps of a Card...

That didn't settle Alice's mind at all; to her, those footsteps had to be the Knave of Hearts, or one of the Red Queen's courtiers, or even, heaven forbid, the Queen herself, coming to grab her and drag her away to a grisly end. The tears fell now, and she bit her lip, desperately trying not to cry to hard, lest she be discovered sooner.

_Clump, clump, clump..._

"Please," she murmered, voice sounding as wet as her eyes and cheeks. "Please, don't let them find me..."

_CLUMP, CLUMP, CLUMP..._

"Please...not any closer...no..."

_**CLUMP, CLUMP, CLUMP...**_

__The footsteps stopped abruptly. Alice gulped softly, holding her breath, not daring to look up and see...

Without warning, a bare, worn hand reached down and grabbed Alice by the collar of her dress. She let out a short scream, which was muffled as another hand went over her mouth.

Alice shut her eyes, continuing to yell out pleads and protestations against the rough, calloused hand over her mouth...

The hand was removed, and, before Alice could say anything or catch her breath, she heard a familiar voice say, "Hurry! Drink this! No time to waste!" and a thick, unfamiliar liquid, with an indescribably horrid taste, was forced into her mouth and down her throat.

Alice gagged and coughed, certain she could feel some of the vile fluid leave her body, even as the rest of it trickled into her stomach.

"Please," she begged, certain it was poison. "No...!"

"Shh!" soothed a voice. "Shh! Calm down...the nightmare is over."

Alice blinked.

That didn't sound like the Knave or a Court member at all...

She looked up, even as the world turned gray and fuzzy...

Just before she lost consciousness, and everything went dark, she glimpsed a pair of toxic green eyes, and thin, rose-lipped smile...

"Try not to forget us," came a quiet, distant-sounding voice.

Then, she made impact with something, and a dull, short THUD echoed in her ears, as reality, quite literally, slammed into her with tremendous force.

Slowly, uncertain and even afraid of what she'd see (if anything), she opened her eyes...


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter XIX: Back on the Ground...**

"Wake up, Alice!" came a familiar, frantic voice. "Wake up! Please, wake up!"

"M-Margaret?"

"Yes, yes! Alice, are you all right?"

Alice groaned, sitting up and holding her head in one hand. She blinked up at her sister, confused and with some discomfort, as her head hurt terribly.

"What happened?"

"Well, you fell asleep on the branch, and, all of a sudden, you fell out of the tree!"

Alice looked away slightly, confused.

"...None of it was...real...?"

"What's that?"

"Nothing," Alice said hastily, rubbing her sore head. A meow sounded from nearby, and she turned, half-expecting to see the Cheshire Cat grinning at her as usual.

She smiled.

"Hello, Dinah," she said softly, and stroked her pet cat lovingly. The feline purred in delight.

"Are you certain that you are not injured?" Margaret questioned quietly, concerned.

Alice shook her head after a moment.

"No...I think I'm all right...really..."

"Good," Margaret said with a relieved sigh. "For a minute, I thought-"

"Margaret! Alice!"

The sisters looked up to see their parents, Helen and Charles Kingsleigh, calling to them, their father smiling widely, one arm hooked with the arm of his wife, his other arm waving at them to come.

"The meeting is finished!" their mother called. "Time to go home!"

"Let's go, Alice," Margaret said with a smile.

"Yes," Alice smiled. "Let's."

Taking up Dinah, Alice skipped after her sister as they went to join their parents.

On the outside, she smiled widely.

Inside, she was frowning.

_Was it really...all just a...nightmare? It seemed so vivid...so real..._

Finally, she rolled her eyes.

_Of course it was. After all, rabbits don't wear pocket watches, flowers can't talk, caterpillar's never smoke, dormice cannot be swordswomen, queens would not play croquet with flamingoes and hedgehogs...why, all of it was quite impossible!_

With a short, decisive nod, Alice continued on her way, scratching Dinah's head all the way.

And, as she never looked behind her, she never saw the pair of bright, pink eyes watching her from behind the tree.

"Alice Kingsleigh...Kingsleigh...I'll have to try and remember that, if I can..."

A short, furry figure looked at the watch in his hand, and gasped.

"Oh, my fur and whiskers! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"


End file.
